Deus Ex: The Conspiracy
by Metroid13
Summary: Novelization of the game, with a few major changes made to the plot. Finally complete. Please excuse the initially poor writing.
1. Intro and Liberty Island

Deus Ex: The Conspiracy  
  
Note: I do not own Deus Ex. But all original ideas I come up with in this story are mine.  
  
Chapter 1: The Begining.  
  
The location is a large room. There was'nt much in it, the floor was red and ceiling bland, an observation area was kept near the ceiling on the north wall. The rooms most distingushing feature was the large sculpture of a human hand. The hand was holding a model of the world. There werent many people in the room either, just three people, one of them was a rather rich looking man, which was exactly what he was, the richest man on the planet (and in the history of the world for that matter). The mans eyes were a deep set of red. The other man made the first one look like a small child. He wore a black-on-black trench coat and his face was full of bio-electrical veins. His eyes were souless looking. Finnaly, the third person was a Chinese woman, wearing a very elegant red dress. She knew both men, and had just finished up a conversation with the man in white. She was just leaving. The man in white looked over to confirm that she was gone and turned to the other.  
  
"You're apointment to FEMA should be finnalized within the week, I've already discussed the matter with the senator", he assured the man in the trench coat.  
"I take it he was agreeable?", the trench coated man asked.  
The man in white smiled, " He did'nt really have a choice."  
The man in the trench coat didnt smile. He could'nt."Has he been infected?"  
"Oh yes," the man in white confirmed, "most certainly.When I mentioned we could put him on the priority list for the Ambrosia vaccine he was so willing it was almost pathetic", he scoffed.  
"This plague.....it's intensifying to the point where we may not be able to contain it", the trench coated man said; buisnesslike as usual.  
The man in white thought about this. "Why contain it? Let it spill into the schools and churchs, let the bodies pile up in the street. In the end, they'll beg us to save them."  
"I've received reports or armed attacks on shipments; theres not enough vaccine to go around. The underclasses are starting to get desperate," the trench coated man said.  
  
The man in white chuckled, "Of course their desperate. They can smell their death, and the sounds they'll make rattleing their cage will serve as a warning to the rest."  
  
"Mmm....I hope you're not underestimating the problem. The others may not go as quietly as you think-Intelligence indicates their behind the problem in Paris.", the other man warned  
  
The man in white laughed once again, "A bunch of pretentious old men playing at running the world....But the world left them behind long ago. WE are the future."  
  
The trench coated man moved on,"We have other problems..."  
  
"UNATCO?"  
  
" Formed by executive order after the "terrorist" strike on the statue; I have someone in place, though. I'm more concerned about Savage. He's relocated to Vandenberg," The man in the trench coat explained.  
  
The man in white was obviously not worried, "Our biochem corpus is FAR in advance of theirs, as is our electronic sentience. And their.....ethical inflexibility has allowed us to make progress in areas they refuse to consider."  
  
" The augmentation project?"  
  
"Among other things...But I must admit that I've been rather disapointed in the performance in the Primary Unit", the man in white explained.  
  
"The Secondary Unit should be online soon," the man in the trench coat assured, "It's curently undergoing preperation and will be operational within six months.....my people will continue to report on its progress. If necessary; the primary unit will be terminated."  
  
The man in white smiled again. A deep and sinister smile. "We've had to endure much, you and I, but soon there will be order again: A new age. Aquinas spoke of the mythical City on the Hill, soon that city will be a reallity and we will be crowned it's kings."  
  
The man in white thought about this, and decided to correct himself.  
  
"Or better then kings. Gods."  
  
Location: New York City. Liberty Island. Year: 2052  
  
JC Denton jumped from the UNATCO issue speedboat and onto the dock. He had just arrived at the island on a rushed mission, he did'nt even recieve a breifing. Just a call from some trooper at HQ, He'd been told that there was a situation at the island and to get there ASAP. He'd heard gunfire over the phone and decided that there was indeed a grim situation going down, and not another suprise training mission. He was of course ecstatic, it was his first combat situation, but he did his best not to seem too eager to the boat pilot. He put on a straight face and walked along the boardwalk where he could see some UNATCO troops placing barricades near the entrance to the main island. A Grade 7 Nightfire Security Bot patroled the boardwalk, it almost seemed eager to hunt whatever enemy they were going to face. JC's train of thought ended abruptly when a chittering flooded into his head, sounded like an electric static. He jerked a bit and remembered about his augmentations and an agents standard issue infolink. A rather ingenious system that allowed his advisors to comunicate with him in his head, no one else could hear this except him.  
  
"Heads up JC. You're brother Paul is on his way to meet you at the dock. The NSF have raided the island and shots have been fired. Repeat. Find Paul. I will monitor you're situation at HQ."  
  
The static ended there. JC was'nt sure who it had been, but the voice had been familiar, perhaps someone he'd met in training. He made his way to the around the corner of the dock and saw Paul issueing orders to the troops setting up the barricade. Paul looked in JC's direction and made his way toward him. Paul was 31. When their parents had died, he'd taken care of JC for awhile, but by that time JC was just placed in the academy, and Paul had already graduated. The worlds first nano-augmented agent. Made to outperform the mechs in just about every aspect. JC thought about this in a small flash of jealousy, but quickly shook off that thought. He had to be mature in this situation. JC honestly was'nt expecting to see Paul for another few weeks. He'd been assigned a mission in Hong Kong.  
  
"Paul! I thought you were in Hong Kong." JC practicly shouted.  
  
Paul choose to ignore that comment and said, "Welcome to the Coalition JC....might as well start using the codename. Think I'd miss my brothers first day?"  
  
"Did'nt think you'd have much of a choice," JC joked, he was the sarcastic type, but he didnt like making a note of it outloud, Paul was more serious, JC figured this was because he was older, and had actually been on missions before."Whats going on?"  
  
Paul looked back at the barricade, " The NSF. They hit one of our shipments. A few of them got away, but we managed to trap some of them in the statue."  
  
JC's eagerness to fight the rebels had been finnaly met. "What are we waiting for?! Looks like a text book assault."  
  
Paul gave him a stern look and continued, " The NSF took one of our agents hostage. The bots and troops are holding the perimeter, but my orders are to hold back, and send you in alone; I think someone wants to see how you handle the situation."  
  
JC could'nt figure out whether to be happy, or bewildered by this. He was after all a new agent, but he figured he should be grateful to try and show the higher ups what he was made of. He checked his standard issue equipment and sighed. "All I've got with me is a pistol and electric prod. I dont mind a test, but UNATCO better issue some hardware."  
  
Paul also sighed, probably because he was annoyed at JC's eagerness and lack of serious input. "Remember that we're police. Stick with the prod. It will stun you're opponents or knock them unconscious. Besides, it's the best way to eliminate resistance silently. Just incase though Manderley wants you to take something extra. A GEP gun, mini cross-bow, or a sniper rifle."  
  
JC contemplated his options carefully. The sniper rifle would be usefull, but JC had very little training in sniping. JC completly ignored the option of taking the cross bow, as he though it would be useless in this kind of situation. The GEP gun was tempting but he though it would be of little use here....  
  
"I'll take the sniper rifle."  
  
Paul didnt seem pleased by this answer, and made no attempt not to show it, "Well, ok. But remember that these are live targets here, this isnt a training exercise."  
  
JC was annoyed. Paul was'nt always like this. And whenever he'd been on a mission Paul would tell him all about it. Every detail.  
  
"I get the idea. Whats the first move?"  
  
"Heres a map of the island," Paul handed JC a map of the island, then continued,"If you can get to the north dock, a UNATCO informant will give you the keys to the statue doors. I suggest you find some other way in though."  
  
"I'll see how it looks onshore."  
  
"Alright. You're primary objective is the makeshift command center the terrorists installed at the top of the statue. But dont forget about Agent Hermann. We think he's being held on the first floor." Paul said.  
  
"What happens when I reach the top floor?", JC asked.  
  
"Interrogate the NSF commander. We dont yet know why they would risk an open assault."  
  
That said, Paul turned around and headed toward the barricade again. JC was just about ready to get over to the statue, but he was too curious to know what happened at Hong Kong. He aproached Paul again.  
  
"Are you just gonna stay here?"  
  
"I'm going to watch the coast. Theres been some activity at sea."  
  
JC proded some more. "Why'd they bring you back to New York?"  
  
Paul looked rather annoyed. He seemed annoyed alot it seemed. "I dont know what they have planned. I messes up an assasination attempt on one of the triad leaders in Hong Kong."  
  
JC didnt know a speck of what Paul had been doing, this was news to him."Which Triad was UNATCO targeting?"  
  
"We'll.....talk about it later." Paul swiftly changed the subject."How was your graduation?"  
  
Crappy was JC's first impulse. Sure all the big shots were there, and all of his buddies from the Academy, but it was still pretty crappy. JC choose to prod him more about his mission. "I want to hear what happened." He said firmly.  
  
Paul ignored him."I could've cared less that mom and dad came to mine. But it was a good thing. The UN threw a dinner in honor of me. The first nano-augmented agent, Dad made a toast, he was wearing his old brown suit. You probably dont remember."  
  
JC's father was a UN offical, as well as his mother. He was the kind of guy who seemed withdrawn all the time. "A toast? That doesnt sound like our father."  
  
Paul laughed, "It was hard for him infront of the diplomats. But he savored every moment."  
  
"Strange, how he could be so proud when so much was due to......our augmentations." JC said quietly.  
  
Paul looked back toward the island, then turned back to JC. " Yes, he was proud, I know that much. It was nice to have done something for him and mom......I wish someone could of been there for you."  
  
"I'm used to being on my own", JC said firmly.  
  
Paul looked at him hard. "One can be too self-seficiant I'm coming to believe...And JC?"  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"Good luck." And with that, Paul walked toward the barricades once again.  
  
JC walked up over to the barricade as well and turned to a trooper.  
  
"How's it going corproal?" JC asked.  
  
Corproal Collins, one of UNATCO's more philosophical soldiers turned to JC, "The bots have em' bottled up, sir. Gunther went rouge on us. We'd go right in if it were'nt for the fall back order."  
  
"What happened to Agent Hermann?"  
  
"He stayed back to fight the terrorists, and we heard from him later that he'd been captured, took out quite a bit of men though. Looks like you get to bail him out."  
  
"Carry on Corproal."  
  
"Agent."  
  
JC sliped past the barricade and into the main area. There were bodies and spent shell casings everywhere. JC had assumed it had been bad, but not THIS bad. He decided that the best course of action would be to report to HQ. JC looked toward the building that stood a few yards away from where he stood. UNATCO HQ. He looked off in the distance behind it and saw several NSF terrorists moving back and forth, setting up observation stations and all, they aparently held most of the island. JC moved stealthily over to UNATCO HQ, just in time to see a large transport helicopter lift off from a helipad at HQ, for a few seconds, the whirring sound of the chopper blades filled the night sky, and just as it filled the area, it was gone, leaving with the helicopter, which was slowly disapearing against the dark sky. JC walked into the grounds of HQ to find that security was very tight here. Barricades were constructed at the mouth of the entrence, with UNATCO troopers pacing back and forth around it. A trooper turned to him in a slightly angry and synical voice.  
  
"Afraid base is under lockdown until the dangers gone agent Denton.", he said. JC recognized him as tech sargent Kaplan. A real prick, he was a terrible show off too.  
  
"Right. How are you guys holding up?", JC asked.  
  
"UNATCO command made us pull back. I guess for Gunthers sake. But c'mon, whats the deal? We're ready to go in."  
  
JC was suprised, and he though HE was a little over-zealous."I cant speak for command, but I'm gonna clean the place out."  
  
"Right on! Manderley was right, you nano augs are born bred killing machines.", Kaplan said.  
  
"I guess so."  
  
"Well, tell you what, I know the code to the comn van. Its 0451. You can find some equipment there. But heres some things you cant find anywhere else, I picked up some supplies over by the docks a little while ago. I've got a scope that can fit your handgun and some ammo for the mini cross bow and your pistol. Got a few creds?"  
  
JC was not a little suprised to find that he'd want to make money off them instead of turning those things in, "Should'nt you turn that stuff over to quarter master?"  
  
Kaplan snickered, " Yeah, I guess. But right now I think you could use them more then that ol' bird. I'll sell you the scope for 400 creds, and the ammo for 100 each."  
  
JC looked at his electronic credit-keeping-datebank. He had 700 credits. He decided on taking the scope. "I'll take the scope."  
  
Kaplan smiled and turned over the scope. JC fitted it on his pistol. "Nice doin' business with ya."  
  
JC walked toward the comn van station and inputed in the code. The door clicked, and opened. Inside he found some ammo for his gun and a emp grenade for the trip. JC left the comn van and left the HQ's grounds. This would be the hard part. Getting inside the statue. JC decided that stealth would be the best way to do this. But there were guards stationed everywhere. He decided on taking the a right where there were'nt as many guards. He walked along the grass, staying in the shadows, trying not to make too much noise. He passed a blockade of NSF members, they all looked rather ratty. Some didnt even wear the standard uniform. He passed them by and continued toward the south dock, where there was a few NSF around. He sneaked up on two of them.  
  
".....Thats the difrence right there. Just take a look at them."  
  
"Bad?"  
  
"Yeah. The cut off his right arm. Took off half his face."  
  
"Hermann right? Bastard. Killed 14 men."  
  
"Thats what they do to you in this business. They rip you're soul outta you. Make you a machine. I saw him take half a clip in the chest."  
  
"We could defianatly use a mech for an operation like this is all I know."  
  
"Soon as you buy into the cult of the machine you're just like them."  
  
The terrorists continued onto another subject. JC sneaked by them, he continued over to the dock. The dock was pretty clear. Only a mercenary. JC walked onto the dock and crouched to avoid making to much noise while walking past the merc. JC's weight shifted a bit, causeing a creak.  
  
"Hm?"  
  
Shit. JC thought.  
  
The terrorist turned around and shot at JC, JC dodged just in time to avoid the shot and rolled behind some barrels.  
  
"I've got somebody! Need-AGH!"  
  
JC shot the mercenary in the head. He watched the body slump to the wooden floor in a bloody heap. He had just killed someone. JC though about this sullenly, it was to be expected, it was his line of work after all. He shook off the feeling. He had to focus on the mission. He walked over to the dock's wooden cabin. Inside he found a bum and a ratty looking woman inside, the bum looked at him, his face set in a smug smile.  
  
"About time you showed up."  
  
"Uhh..."  
  
The static chittering filled his head again.  
  
"Iron and copper, JC."  
  
JC looked back at the bum "Iron and copper. The statue is copper on an iron frame right?"  
  
The bum laughed, "Passwords enough pal. Dont think you know anything about the lady I dont. My dad did tours out here. Harley Filben by the way."  
  
"JC Denton, I hear you can get me inside.", JC said, getting to business already.  
  
"Depends...You get you're man out, re-take the statue, whatever, but I know the commander up there, and I want him alive. Got it?  
  
"You can trust me."  
  
"I'll take you're word for it. Here's the key to front door, I suggest finding another way in though."  
  
Fliben gave JC the keys and walked over to converse with the woman. She looked at JC then back at Filben. JC walked away and continued toward the backside of the statue. There he found a large amount of storage crates stacked on each other. And idea was formed in his mind. It looked like all of them were in jumping distance of each other. He could probably make his way up there. He ran over to the first set of crates and crawled up on them, he looked up and was satisfied to note that it was indeed possible to make his way up there useing these crates. He crawled up on one after the other and eventually made his way to the top, he jumped down and slowly walked up the ramp and into the statue.......  
  
Gunther Hermann was VERY angry. He did not particularly like being taken captive by these god awful terrorists, and he DIDNT like the way they looked at him. Like he was a freak. The story of his life he supposed. When he'd been a child, he was the skinnist boy in school. And in the entire town. He was born in the Ratchsduat, Germany. He was born skinny. And lived an agonizing childhood skinny. Made fun of. Riddiculed. "Gawky Gunther" They would say. "Gaunt Gunther" or some other magical way of describing him. It'd been like this right before he'd become involved in the United Nations, as a secret agent for the German Government, at the age of 23. They recognized him for his clever decisiveness. For his ruthlessness. That was why they'd thrown him into the early stages of the augmentation program. He'd came out looking like he did now. A even bigger freak then he'd been then before. But now when people called him such names as "Dinosuar" or "Big Metal Freak." a simple flick of his wrists would be enough to break their little necks. He had the body of every bodybuilders wildest dreams, he'd also been gifted with super human abilities. That was of course, 14 years ago. When mechs were everything national governments fought over. Back when nano augmentations were'nt even thought of. He supposed that mechs would eventually get outdated. But it was depressing to know that mechs were slowly being put out of commision. UNATCO already had that coward Paul Denton. Supposedly he was supposed to make mechs look like small toys. He was a coward. Afraid to kill. Too human. And now they had his brother coming as well. Equiped with the same systems. There goes the use of mechs. But he would show them. He would show them all that mechs were indeed superior to those wimpy nano augs. But he couldent do that while in this cell. He sighed, and sat down to eat some of the stale rations the terrorists had given him. All he needed was a distraction of some kind. Play dead? Maybe, but too obvious. He'd have to try something a bit more original. He went over to the see through wall.  
  
"Excuse me."  
  
The terrorist that had been watching his cell looked up from the book he was reading. Hopefully the last book he'd ever read, Gunther thought darkly. "What?"  
  
"I am very hungry. Please bring me some food."  
  
"Yeah. Like I'm gonna fall for that. Besides, you've got some food right there."  
  
"I have finished it. Bring me more."  
  
"No."  
  
"Please?"  
  
"No."  
  
Gunther retreated back to his original spot, to think of some other plan of action. Satisfied with himself, the terrorist continued reading his book. Gunther was spent of ideas. This made him mad. He returned to the see through wall and pounded hard on it. The terrorist spilled his coffee all over himself due to the sudden loud noise. He screamed in agitation and ran over to the sink to pour cold water all over himself. Gunther smiled sinisterly. The terrorist turned back to him.  
  
"You little bastard! GAH THATS HOT!"  
  
Gunther applauded himself but then realized that the chances of the terrorist opening the door now were quiet slim. Nevertheless, he felt quite pleased. The terrorist finished drying himself and gave a mean look to Gunther. Just then, the terrorist heard gunshots. He quickly got up again and rushed over to the source of the commotion. Gunther listened in tensely, was it UNATCO coming to liberate him? Gunther went to the see through wall just in time to see JC Denton run into the room, holding an assault rifle.  
  
"Agent open the door!"  
  
JC turned to the door and got out a set of keys, he unlocked the cell door. Gunther stampeded out slaming open the unlocked door in his wake. JC threw him the assault rifle as several terrorists ran into the room.  
  
"Oh shi-"  
  
Gunther droped the safety of the weapon and fired at the terrorists, it was over for them within a few seconds, the terrorists bodies smoking. Gunther felt great after that.  
  
JC stared at the bodies. Gunther felt that he had been right on the money with his asumptions about the nano augs. Wimps.  
  
"Good shot."  
  
"Er, thank you. You are JC Denton I presume. I'll be taking this gun now."  
  
"Go ahead. Good to see you're alright Agent Hermann. You should make you're way back to HQ now."JC said.  
  
"Absoulutly not. I have been in this cell for too long now.", Gunther said firmly.  
  
"HQ demands it. Sorry."  
  
"Gah, incompetant little- Meh. Fine I shall go." Gunther said, hate filling his voice.  
  
"Be carefull, theres a blockade near the statue you'll have to go through."  
  
"Perfect.", Gunther said. And he meant it. Gunther ran out of the room to see that the room had a few bodies in it. Freshly killed. Perhaps he'd been wrong about the nano augs after all......  
  
JC left the makeshift cell area, and ran up the stairs in the main room. He passed the place where he'd came in through and up another set of stairs. He climbed a ladder and overheard two terrorists talking.  
  
"Its over now. Their coming right now as we speak."  
  
"I'm going to stay my ground."  
  
"Its suicide."  
  
"Do as you wish, but I'm staying right here."  
  
JC leapt up and fired a bullet at them, the terrorist that had opted to leave recieved the bullet to the gut and fell to the ground, moaning in pain. The other terrorist rolled behind a wall and stayed there. JC waited. The terrorist looked back and JC shot him in the chest, the terrorist collapsed. Just then JC got a call from HQ.  
  
"Some news JC. The NSF targeted a shipment of the plauge vaccine Ambrosia. We cant locate it, see if the commander will surrender when you reach the command post. We'd like to interrogate him."  
  
The call ended. JC advanced up the stairs and walked into a room, in this room stood a man in an NSF uniform.  
  
"Dont shoot! I surrender!" The man cried.  
  
"So you think you know better then FEMA of what to do with this months shipment of ambrosia."  
  
FEMA is a organization that deals with foreign and domestic issues around the world. They help out with everything from bombings to natural disaster. They also manage the distribution of the only known vaccine the plague that was currently rampaging the world, the Gray Death. The Gray Death was diagnosed several moths prior to this, and already the body count had hit staggering numbers. Ambrosia was synthesised by the multinational corporation VersaLife, and being it the only known way of fighting Gray Death, it was naturally kept secret from the public. Limited supplies of Ambrosia regularly got shiped to all the big corporations that kept the world running. Apparently the NSF discovered the secret of Ambrosia.  
  
"You're too late." the commander spat."It's on its way back to the people, and you cant do a damn thing about it."  
  
JC considered shooting him at that point, but then remembered that UNATCO watned him alive. "Tell me about the shipment and I'll order the troops to pick you up as a prisoner instead of a corpse."  
  
The terrorist seemed mildly suprised."Ask away. We already won this round."  
  
Yeah. Right. "Where are you taking it?", JC said, cutting to the chase.  
  
"We're just giving ordinary people the same chance to survive as the bureaucrats in Washington.", he said.  
  
"You'll have to unload the shipment in New York. The helicopters would spot you at sea."  
  
"I think the government made the plauge on purpose, to get rid of the population growth." the terrorist said.  
  
"Just answer the question."  
  
"Dont believe me? Its all in the numbers. For a hundred years theres been a conspiracy of plutocrats against ordinary people."  
  
JC scoffed, "Do you have a single fact to back that up?"  
  
The terrorist was aparently glad he asked, "Number one: In 1945, corporations payed about 50 percent of federal taxes. now they pay 5 percent. Number two: In 1900 90 percent of Americans were self employed. Now its only 2 percent."  
  
"So?"  
  
"Its called consolidation. Strengthen governments and corporations, weaken individuals. With taxes, this can be done imperceptibly over time."  
  
JC was getting impatient, "I guarentee you that the interogation staff at UNATCO will not be as forbearing as I am."  
  
The terrorist snarled,"Yeah, the secret police. You're just a bunch of bullies for a completly illegitimate government."  
  
JC sighed, "We will locate the shipment one way or another."  
  
The terrorist conitnued with his bizzare conspiracy theories, "The entire executive branch is hand-picked. Nineteen of the last last twenty-three US presdients have been members of the Triateral Commsion. The Triateral Commision is financed by the Rockefellers and the Rothschilds. Dont tell me-"  
  
JC cut him off there, "Thats a think-tank. Anyone can become a member."  
  
"But not everyone does. Thats why they call it secret government."  
  
Just then a pair of UNATCO troops came up the stairs.  
  
"We'll take it from here Agent Denton."  
  
JC regarded them with a nod, and took a quaint blue cannister that was sitting on a crate. JC made his way back to UNATCO HQ. Along the way he saw that UNATCO had effectively destroyed much of the NSF threat. Getting back was rather easy. He recieved a a call from HQ.  
  
"Well done! I'll pass on your orders to the troops. Report back to HQ for a debreifing. Mission complete."  
  
The transmission ended, JC felt great, he survived his first combat situation with hopefully good results. When he got back to HQ, Paul was waiting for him there.  
  
Paul saw JC and walked up to him "We've got the island secure, how'd things look in the statue?"  
  
"The leader surrendered. So they were after the Ambrosia...", JC said.  
  
"A months supply for the east coast. We think they've taken it back to the city." Paul said, his eyes drifting to the lit up city of New York.  
  
JC was puzzled. "I didnt know UNATCO handled the Ambrosia distribution...."  
  
Paul patted him on the shoulder, "Manderley will breif us shortly. UNATCO makes sure the limited supply of vaccine gets to government agencies and key industries."  
  
"It's good to finnaly see some action."  
  
"Yeah, well pace yourself. You killed alot of people tonight. I'll handle things out here. I'll meet you in Manderleys office."  
  
Paul went off, and JC walked into HQ.  
  
An imposing looking woman trudged through the halls of UNATCO HQ. She just had her breifing with Manderley and was feeling famished. She went down a few corridors and into the rec room, where she got some apreciative glances from the troops everywhere. She was UNATCO's second best agent. She was Anna Navarre. And she was also a mech. Who needs those little computers swiming in you're veins anyway? she thought. She got to her posistion by being good at what she did. Ruthless obliteration of her enemy. She used to be UNATCOs single greatest agent. Before Paul came. She and Gunther both knew that eventually mechs would be put out of use, and now it was a reality. She scoffed at the fools in command. Paul was a coward. Afraid to kill, too human. In this line of work you needed to be like her. She disabled this train of thought, she didnt like thinking about things like this. She was born in a small village in Russia, where you truly need to fight to survive. This was of course after Russia's economy had went to the dogs and it was every man for himself. She'd forgotten about her village after a few years, she had to move on to more challenges. Good thing too, because her superb skills would of never been recognized in that little village. Which was exactly what happened, the UN was impressed, they told her that they could use some people like her. She started off as an operative for the agency, and she soared through the ranks, she was eventually picked out for the early stages of mechanical augmentation work. She now looked as if she'd been born to a computer and an office machine. She'd once been quite buetiful, but she supposed that it was a minor loss for what she was now. Right now, she was thristy. She walked into the rec room to see her colleage, Gunther Hermann, trying to stick his hand into the beverage dispenser.  
  
"What are you doing?" She asked.  
  
"Damn machine. It.....nevers gives me....what I want." Gunther said, as he worked at the job.  
  
"What is wrong?"  
  
"Gave me....lemon-lime..."  
  
"I like lemon lime."  
  
"Well I do not."  
  
"Are you sure you pressed the right button?" Anna asked  
  
"I do not make mistakes of that kind." Gunther said  
  
JC Denton walked into the room. Anna gave him a quick glance, tall, handsome....meh. She turned back to Gunther.  
  
"You're hand might of sliped."  
  
"No. I wanted orange! It gave me lemon lime." Gunther said sullenly.  
  
"The machine would not make a mistake." Anna compared the machine to herself. No, it would not make a mistake.  
  
"Its the maitenance man! He knows I like orange!" Gunther said accusingly.  
  
Oh brother. "So you think the staff has some kind of plot?"  
  
"Yes, they do that on purpose!" Gunther said.  
  
Just then JC walked over, probably to give the machine a whirl. Anna intercepted him.  
  
"My new partner, JC Denton. Please tell me you're not going to wear those sunglasses during a night operation." She said.  
  
"My vision is augmented." JC said.  
  
"At least it is a way we know its not Paul." Gunther joked.  
  
"Forgive my interuption," JC said,"I just wanted to say I look forward to working with you, Agent Navarre."  
  
"I do not expect you to perform as well as Agent Hermann,"She said scornfully,"but the mission will require us to do more than frighten the NSF with our baggy coats then make us look bigger than we really are."  
  
"I am prepared to perform my duties." JC said simply.  
  
Gunther interjected before Anna could give him a really crushing remark."He will not be the equivilant of his brother Paul. I've seen that he knows the procedure of a good offensive."  
  
Anna looked back at Gunther, "Let us hope you are right..."  
  
Anna gave JC one last look and went to her office. She didnt even get her drink.  
  
Bitch. JC thought.  
  
As if sensing this, Gunther spoke to JC;"Forget how Agent Navarre is not friendly. She has every life to give for her partner."  
  
JC nodded at Gunther and pressed a button on the machine, an orange soad poped out.  
  
Gunther was actually steaming.  
  
"Take it."  
  
Gunther took the soda and left the rec room. JC poped in another credit and got coke. He took it and went back out into the main hall. He entered the office to his right and found it to be his own office.  
  
"Well, well, my own office." He said to himself.  
  
"You found your office," It was the infolink."Did Janice give you you're password? No, I guess not. Ok, lets see...login is.....JCD. Password is, Bionicman." The transmission ended.  
  
JC logged onto his computer, and found some mail. Most were from the UNATCO Augmenation Medical department. One was from Paul, a welcome aboard e-mail. JC read through the message, then deleted it. He ignored the med letter, he also saw one from Jaime Reyes, if he could smile, he would've right then. Jaime was a great guy, he was also Pauls best friend. He was an uncle of sorts to JC. And to top it all off he was head of the UNATCO medical department. It was basicly a welcome aboard mail, but it told him to stop by his office. He logged off and headed down to level 3. Level 3 contained the cell block, armoury, med center, communications, and several offices. He decided to visit the communications wing. Time to see who it was that had been talking to him this whole time. He walked in and made a note to visit Jaime next, his office was closest.  
  
"Your getting warm..."  
  
JC stoped for a second. Then continued.  
  
"Your red hot...looks like you found me."  
  
JC looked down to the communications terminal to see a geniune looking techno geek, he thought jokingly. He walked down to introduce himself.  
  
The tech guy laughed "Like leading a mouse to cheese."  
  
JC frowned, something he could do."This thing is starting to give me a headache."  
  
"Dont worry,"the guy assured him, "We shut it down whenever you're not on duty."  
  
"I guess I'll get used to it.", JC said.  
  
The man introduced himself, "I'm Alex Jacobson, communications engineer."  
  
"I suppose you already know who I am.", JC said.  
  
Alex snickered, "Getting there. You're certainly quicker on the uptake then Paul ever was."  
  
"Thanks."  
  
So, that was Alex Jacobson, he was a geek, but a usefull one, he installed UNATCO security. JC decided that it would be usefull having him watching out for him. Alex Jacobson was one of those major tech geeks before he'd been employed by the United Nations. There were some rumors that he'd been with a crime organization prior to his new job that smuggled cash to foreign nations that banned US dollers, but the UN tended to overlook those things. Alex was also an elite hacker, it sorta reminded JC of those old action movies that featured a kid that could hack any system for the heros. JC left the comm wing and went into Jaimes office. He found the pudgy man working on his computer at the far side of the office. Jaime turned to JC and smiled.  
  
"Hey JC."  
  
"You look like the real thing," JC joked, "They actually let you operate on people?"  
  
"Just fixed Gunther's knee in fact, a sticky actuator. So far I feel like more of a mechanic then a doctor."  
  
JC couldent blame him, Jaime's medical field specialized in augmentations."I'm impressed."  
  
"They actually let you point a gun at people?"Jaime retorted from before.  
  
"We'll have to catch up later, I've got to leave for New York right away. Can you send whatever it is Manderley wants?"  
  
"No problem...JC, you know their preparing to roll out this technology worldwide right?  
  
"As long as I dont turn green and grow a pair of antennas, as I understand it."JC said synically.  
  
"Yeah,well, the design is pretty modular, which means you'll have access to upgrades from augmentation enzyme cannisters." Jaime told him  
  
JC produced the small blue cannister he'd found in the statue."Like this?"  
  
"Hm, My order from VersaLife must of been on the ship when the NSF captured it. You can use any type of medbot to install that."  
  
"I'll do that." JC told him.  
  
"The cannisters hold Colloid modules. Some are generic upgrades, but with most you'll have to make permenant choices about how to configure some of your systems."  
  
"Its about time they implemented some of this stuff. One more thing before I go, what can you tell me about the info link?  
  
The second he said he kinda regreted it, Jaime got into detailed rants about this stuff.  
  
"Let's see... microreceiver exostructure in the sulci, mechano-carbon threads on the axons... for queuing, you know, packet routing... Anything particularly interest you?"  
"There a way to turn it off?"  
  
"The Infolink?"  
  
"Uh, yeah or is someone at UNATCO tuned in for 24 hours?" JC asked.  
  
"This might sound a little funny, JC, but I'm not permitted to answer that question."  
  
"Your clearance if higher then mine?"  
  
Jaime averted his eyes "Regarding your systems, I am you're physician."  
  
"No big deal, I was just curious."  
  
JC left the office, he decided to go over to the armoury next. Once inside he met General Carter, he remembered hearing great things about him. He'd been in the second Gulf War, and also a few conflicts after that.  
  
"At east Agent Denton." Carter told him  
  
"General Carter, I read about the Merced operation in school, this is a great honor."  
  
"I'm not a general anymore, just call me Carter."  
  
"I cant believe what the NSF did to your family.."  
  
Carter had fought the NSF back in the North West war. His family had been killed in the cross fire of one battle, right around his town.  
  
"Enough of that soldier, we've each had our fair share of troubles. I lost my children, but you had to grow up without parents, which requries more courage? I dont think it matters."Carter said.  
  
"My parents died in a car accident, that's different."  
  
"I said that's enough Agent. You have your own op and time is short. How bout' I give your stealth pistol"  
  
Carter sliped the stealth pistol to JC. JC took it and looked up at him, "Thank you sir."  
  
JC walked out of the armory and decided that it was finnaly time to meet with Manderley. He went up to level two and walked into Manderleys office, his secretary, Janice Reed, greeted him.  
  
"Good work out there Agent Denton, Manderley said you handled youself nicely." said Janice, her voice thick with western accent."Welcome to UNATCO HQ, our family just keeps getting bigger.  
  
"Is Manderley available?"  
  
"Go right in JC, he's been expecting you."  
  
JC went into the office to find Paul and Manderley in mid conversation.  
  
"....That will be JC's job." Manderley said.  
  
"Whats that?" JC interjected.  
  
Paul turned to JC "The power station. The NSF have the Ambrosia in a warehouse protected by cameras and booby traps. We want to power down the whole system. "  
"We´re taking one illicit generating plant, protected by weak groups of NSF. Knock out that plant, and Paul´s team can walk right into the warehouse." said Manderley.  
JC was ready to get on with the job. "Just tell me where it is."  
Paul continued, "The NSF are openly resisting our deployed forces, gradually. You´ll have to deal with them first."  
Manderley looked at Paul," And you be ready Paul, when the power drops, go in, and go in hard."  
"I'll use my discretion." Paul said.  
Manderley gave Paul a hard look, Paul scorned. "Go in like the US marshalls. We lose the vaccine, I´m sending your butt to the Mayor to explain why he and his three daughters won´t get their pills this month."  
"Yes, sir." Paul looked at JC "Let´s not waste any time, JC. Get down to the dock. A boat is waiting to take you and your partner Anna Navarre ashore."  
"Yes get going. Here's your op bonus for the great job in the statue, we take care of our people around here, and heres an extra 500 for rescuing Agent Hermann." said Manderley.  
"Thank you sir" JC said. JC and Paul left the office.  
"How are you getting to Hell's Kitchen?" said JC "Black Helicopter, newest grade. You get to take the boat you took to the island," Paul said "I'll see you soon."  
JC left level two and walked out of HQ, a short time later he was at the dock, where Anna Navarre was waiting impatiently for him "It's about time you showed up, Agent Denton. I was about to leave without you." Anna said, she got into the boat,"Lets go."  
JC got into the boat, Anna gave the pilot the directions, and the speedboat speed off into the night.  
Authors Note: I know, pretty long chapter for the first one, but what can I say? I'm open to constructive criticism and reviews, thanks for reading. 


	2. Battery Park and Hell's Kitchen Part One

Deus Ex: The Conspiracy.

Authors note: Thanks for the reviews, I'm very open to constructive criticisim, and I'll do my best to please you all.

Chapter 2: Hells Kitchen.

Location: New York. Battery Park.

It didnt take long for the speedboat to reach the Battery Park, JC Dentons first objective in Hell's Kitchen. The boat was one of the newest grades in seafaring technology, breaking speeds that elite pilots from the 1990's would of envyed. The boat docked along the side of a picnic ground near Castle Clinton. Castle Clinton was an old Revolutionary fort that was renovated as a landmark, and now it apparently served as a hideout to terrorists. JC and Anna steped off the boat. Anna turned to JC and spoke up.

"Alright lets go, the terrorists are in a fighting retreat and a few of them barricaded themselves inside Castle Clinton." she said, again repeating the breifing he'd recieved in the boat.

"Lead the way." JC said.

"Our orders are to locate a barrel of Ambrosia that the terrorists are hiding inside. But...."she said this with a new gleam in her eyes, "we will exterminate the terrorists in the castle first."

"Exterminate?" JC asked.

"A precious opportunity we cannot neglect..."

Weirdo. JC thought. He wondered if she was like this in all combat situations."What about the rest of the shipment?" JC asked.

"That is your brothers problem. Our current one is the the Ambrosia thats HERE. After this objective you will take the subway to Hell's Kitchen and meet him there. He will brief you." Anna told him.

"Ok, are we going in the front or is there another way?"

"A secondary entrence would be usefull, but, I am aware of no such thing."

Anna looked in the direction of the castle and started to run there. Not looking back. JC was about to go after her when he heard a small cough. He looked around and saw a kid walk out of the darkness, he looked about 10 or 13.

"You ok?" JC asked.

'I'm starving,"the kid said, and it did indeed look that way."do you have anything to eat?"

JC fished around in his rather large pockets and produced a small candy bar. "How bout' this?"

The kid smiled, "Your cool." He took the candy bar and began to eat it.

If JC could smile, he would, "Glad I can help, hey, you must know the surronding area, what can you tell about it?"

"You must want to get inside Castle Clinton, I can tell your a cop. Anyway, I saw some of those terrorists earlier go in through the secret passage." the kid said, finishing his candy.

Bingo, JC thought."Yeah?"

"Yeah, its right behind you. The code is 9183."

The kid walked away at that point, JC looked at the soda machine and decided that this was the passage. He looked to the right of the machine and saw a small maitenance panel, JC went over to it and pryed it open, inside was a small keypad. JC inputed the code the kid had told him and the soda machine hissed and retracted to the side, revealing a hollow room inside. JC went inside the room and looked around, a passage led out of the room to the right and to the left lay a small pool of water. JC looked behind some barrels; no Ambrosia. He went down the corridor to the right and looked around quickly, no terrorist, he heard a beepeing noise, he looked up to see a camera's lens staring at him. It clicked, and the lens went red, setting off several alarms. JC looked to his left and saw a ventilation shaft, he unhinged it and crawled through, he stayed there and waited, several terrorists came rushing through the corridor.

"Theres nothing here. Jake, are you sure you saw someone?"

"Positive. Black trench coat, the works."

JC breathed in.

"Hm? In the rafters!"

A terrorist unhinged the covering and stood back, two terrorists ducked down and started shooting with pistols. JC crawled his way down the shaft, thanking god these guys had such horrible aim. He went past a corner and was safe for now.

"He went around the other way, get him from there!"

JC unhinged the covering of the nearest shaft opening, and rolled out just as two terrorists came down the corridor.

"Fire! Die pig!"

The terrorists opened fire on JC, JC rolled behind a crate to avoid the sailing bullets, he waited for the terrorists to stop, when they did, he rolled back out and fired a shot at the first terrorist, the bullet smacked into his chest and he collapsed in a heap, the life seemingly sucked out of him.

"Fascist!"

The other terrorist fired at him, and missed. The terrorist aimed squarely at JC's head for another shot. The gun clicked empty.

"No, please do-"

JC shot him in the leg, the terrorist wobbled and JC proded him, the terrorist fell to the floor, unconcious. JC sighed and ran down the other way, he came into a medium sized room with another camera. It was already red, the alarms still going off. JC looked to the left and saw another dock area. He went inside and was rewarded by seeing a barrel of greenlike liquid. The Ambrosia. JC recieved a transmission from Alex.

"Good work JC, objective complete, Agent Navarre will describe you're next objective."

Anna Navarre waited 10 minutes for JC to arrive. No such luck. It wasnt really that hard to follow someone from point A to point B now was it? Nevertheless, she arrived first and ordered the execution of every terrorist in sight. Herself and a team of UNATCO troops stormed into the castle and killed every terrorist on the spot, now they had to wait for JC to arrive, so she could scold him. Unexpectedly however, JC arrived from within the complex two minutes of the battle on the surface.

"What the-?" Anna exclaimed.

"There was a secret passage at the entry point. I found the Ambrosia inside. Its near the entrance." JC told her.

Anna nodded at her team of troops, they rushed into the castle, and down a hatch. Clever.

"I must say that I am-impressed Agent Denton. How did you do it?"

"A kid told me." JC said simply.

Anna didnt know whether to be happy for this, or mad. The UNATCO troops came back up with a barrel of Ambrosia.

"We found some bodies down there, way to go Denton."

Again, Anna was suprised. "You are not afraid to kill. The last thing I'd expect from the brother of Paul."

"I'm learning as I go." JC said.

"You just passed lesson one. Lesson two, is how we deal with the terrorists in the subway station." Anna told him.

"Just tell me where to go."

"This will not be easy, the terrorists have wired the platform with explosives, and we've been informed that they put in hostages. Get the hostages out if you can, but make sure that the NSF knows that human sheilds will not work against UNATCO." Anna told him.

JC thought the situation over, "Nothing we cant handle with a few EMP grenades."

Anna was pleased. "We are thinking the same thought. Take these two grenades."

Anna handed him the grenades, and dismissed him. Anna watched him leave and decided that she may enjoy working with him after all...

JC made his way over to the shanty town west of Castle Clinton, when he got there he saw that there wer several UNATCO troops getting ready to storm the area. Half way there a fight started and the troops flooded the perimeter, the NSF were all dead when he got there.

"They've got hostages in the subway Agent Denton." one of the troops said to him.

JC nodded and went over to the mouth of the subway entrance, NSF were posted around it. Going through there would be a threat to him and the hostages, so he looked to the left and saw a maintenance door. Inside he found a small steamy room, that held an entrance to the rafters that lead around the platform. He unhinged the covering and crawled through. After navigateing a few dark shafts, he came upon a covering and peered through it, he was right behind the hostages. An idea formed in his head, he thought he could probably get them out if he spoke quietly and got the hostages on the train before anyone noticed. It was bound to go wrong, but it was better than opening up a can of augmented whup-ass on the NSF and in the process get the hostages killed. He quietly unhinged the shaft covering, a hostage looked in his direction and gasped. JC threw her a dirty look, one that said "If you want to live be fucking quiet." Too late. An terrorist approached her.

"What's wrong?",he asked.

"Um, a spider, I have arachniphobia.",she said quickly.

The terrorist looked at her and then looked at the shaft. He turned back to her."Well where is it? I'll kill it."

"It left."

The terrorist sighed in agitation and left back to his post. JC came back through the shaft, he steped out of the shaft and the hosatges looked at him, one male, one female, and a child. JC made a crude display useing his hands on what he wanted them to do. The hostages nodded silently, JC made a gesture with three fingers, then two, then one. He quickly pressed a button on the train car nearest to them, and the hostages rushed into the train followed quickly by JC. All the terrorists on the platform turned and gasped simutaniously, they quickly unholstered their guns and started fireing through the windows.

"Get down!", JC cried. The hostages quickly layed themselves flat on the floor, the child was screaming. JC crouched as bullets sailed over the area he had been standing in. He stood up and fired some blank shots at the terrorists, all hit nothing but the wall behind the assaulting terrorists, but the blasts caused the terrorists to roll into cover. JC looked franaticly for an emergency window shutter switch. All modern trains came equiped with these systems in situations like this. He spotted one at the far end, he got up again and ran for the switch. The terrorists got out from behind their cover and fired again, the bullets filling the train car. JC dived to avoid being made into a lead pincushion. He put his gun up and fired some blank shots, to his suprise he heard a cry of pain, he looked up to see that he hit a terrorist in the gut, his weak form groaning in pain. The other terrorists went behind cover again, JC got up and lifted the glass covering that contained the shutter switch, the terrorists got back out and fired as JC fliped the switch, The windows of the train instanly became covered with a mesh of steel. JC sighed in relief. He looked at the hostages, the female was getting up.

"Keep down, theres still potential danger."

JC went over to the door of the train car, it was unlocked, and he didnt know if there was a mechanisim that could lock it. He decided on getting out as soon as possible instead of fighting the terrorists when they came in. He rushed into the next car and was greeted by two terrorists, apparently trying to suprise him by going into the adjacent car, and from there ambushing him and the hostages. JC reacted first and fired a shot at the lead terrorist, the bullet entered his forehead and the terrorist collapsed, spasming in pain. The other terrorist rushed over to him to try and suprise him with meele combat, JC rushed to him as well and punched him in the gut, the terrorist howled in pain, JC took this time to pick up the thug and ejected him out of a window, and on to the adjacent tracks. JC poked his head back in the hostage's car. No enemies. He turned back ran through the cars, eventually reaching the conductors cabin, he blindly threw a switch and decided that today might be his lucky day. The train hummed with life and and started a quick descent on the track ways. He went back to the car where he left the hostages, there was a terrorists limp body lying on the floor, still breathing. The male hostage looked sweaty.

"I've had some basic self defense training sir." he said in between gasps.

"Good thing." JC said.

"You saved us, thank you." the female said.

"Just doing my job ma'am." JC said.

"Thank you mister." the child said in a sqeaky voice.

Again, JC wished he had the ability to smile,"No problem kid. We should arrive in about ten minutes, don't get comfortable. Theres alot of fighting going on in Hells Kitchen I've heard."

The hostages nodded, and the child and mother fell asleep. The ordeal must of been exhausting. JC looked out at the darkness rushing past the car, and wondered what awaited him in Hells Kitchen.

"CLEAR!"

Paul crouched behind a burnt out car as a UNATCO trooper tossed an explode-on-impact lam. The lam sailed through the air and landed the midst of the enemies posistion. The explosion creating a defeaning boom that devastated everything in its radius. A short silence followed the blast, Paul and his squad of UN "peacekeepers" looked out and saw that the small group of NSF that had been there were complety erradicated.

"Nice work Johanson", Paul said, doing his best not to ring the guys throat out right there.,"lets move foward now."

The fighting in Hells Kitchen was quite intense, the whole thing seemed more like a war then a terrrorist clean-up. He'd done his best to "convienantly" get separated from the squad, but all attempts failed. It seemed like he would have to go ahead with the warehouse raid afterall. Damn. Nevertheless, he would find a way to put the cards in the NSF's favor. Somehow. It looked like the fighting in this part of the city had died down, it was time to go meet JC at the subway. He felt terrible about all this, actively working with UNATCO, his actions had doomed several of his friends. But it was all to work out for the best. One must be sacrificed for the good of the whole. He hoped they'd understand.

"Okay, this areas secure. I want a garrison left here immeadeatly." Paul announced to the squad.

"Yes sir!"

Paul handed them gas grenades, suppresing a laugh. "These are good crowd control, use em."

"....Yes sir."

Paul turned and ran for the subway station east of his position. He had time to think about this, he'd failed at being "missing in action.", so he had to try a new plan to hinder UNATCO's efforts at recovering the Ambrosia, being a double agent isnt as easy as it seems. He passed a riot police blockade, they all gave him nods. He'd have to go by helicopter, if he could find a nice radio he could radio the NSF of the copters' position, though he ran the risk of it being shot down, and coincidentaly, killing him. He'd have to rely on luck for this. They just needed two more hours to ship the Ambrosia to La Gruardia. Just two more hours of lies and sabotage. He activated his speed augmentation and became a blurr. He was at the subway in no time. He went through the entrance to the subway and went down to the platform, where several civilans had taken cover during the fighting. He watched a subway train stop at the platform, the doors opened and his brother JC Denton and three other people walked out of the train car. JC spotted Paul and rushed over to him, he looked beat.

"Whats the situation here?" JC asked.

"You're taking over, I need to get my team ready to raid the warehouse." Paul told him

"What about the EMP generator?" JC asked him

Paul felt a pang of guilt when he mentioned it, he didnt plan on JC putting down that field, he gave the troops at the warehouse orders to kill whoever looked UNATCO. "Still in place. You're primary objective will be to locate and destory its power source."

"I'll question some of the locals."

"I ordered the civilians to take cover in the Underworld tavern and Tendorloin Clinic." Paul told JC

"Why'd you have to clear the streets?"

"Theres still a heavy NSF presence on the streets. We're taking some fire, you're help would be appreciated."

"I'll do what I can."

"If you need some extra supplies, my commander center in my room is still active. Take what you need. Remember? The keypads behind the painting." Paul told JC, Paul had his small but resourcefull data area installed a few years back, with its own computer and a cache of weapons. Gilbert Renton had installed it for him. Paul handed him his room key.

"Just like the movies", JC joked, "second floor right?"

"Right. Good luck JC."

JC ran up the stairs and left. Paul entered the train, he went up to the conductors cabin and started it up and the train took off into the darkness of the subway tunnel. Paul wondered how this would all turn out.

JC walked up to street level and looked around, in the distance he could see a police blockade along with bodies strewn out all over the place. There were bomb craters, shell casings, bodies everywhere. Machine gun fire could be heard all around, he guessed that some places might be more intense then the area he was in. Two UNATCO troopers came up to him.

"There's a standoff in the park Agent Denton, we could use your support."

"Lead the way."

The troopers turned and ran down the street toward the park, JC passed the Ton' hotel, a run down hotel, it earned it's name by the leters H, I, L in the word Hilton that werent opperating, leaving the letters T, O, N. A catchy name. And the owner of the hotel was Gilbert Renton, a great guy. Paul stayed at his hotel for years. JC passed the it and was greeted by the sounds of explosions and gunfire in the park. The standoff came to its climax. UNATCO troops rushed the perimeter of the park, the NSF occupied the middle of it, and fought fiercely. JC took cover and fired rounds of pistol shots at the terrorists, the other UNATCO troops took cover and fired wildly at the NSF, there were under twenty terrorists, it wasnt long before they turned tail and ran, then they were cut off by another blockade of UNATCO troops. JC relaxed. Slightly. UNATCO troops entered the area and took enemy munitions. Two NSF terrorists survived the assault, and were towed off. Three UNATCO troops died in the assault. Most of the UNATCO troops looked pretty down over the loss of one particular troop. One of them was even crying.

"We lost Jones, great guy, he was friendly with everyone, and one hell of a shot." One of the troops said.

At that point the infolink came online, it was Alex, "We're getting reports of a hostage situation in the ton' hotel. When you stayed with Paul did you meet Mr. Renton and his daughter Sandra? We think one of them is still inside the hotel."

JC walked over to the 'Ton and looked around, going through the front would be too obvious, he'd have to find another way in. He made his way toward the back of the hotel, and went around the side. There was a fire escape, exactly how he remembered. Paul's window was always open. He went up several ladders and went through the window. He heard hushed talking and sharp orders being issued. He drawed his pistol and looked around Pauls room. It was clear. He looked toward the book shelf and decided to wait on looking in Pauls little secret room for now. He walked quietly over to the doorway that led to the hall way, and creaked it open a bit. He kept this up untill he could see two hostages, one male, one female. There were two terrorists guarding them, no sign of Sandra or Gilbert Renton.

"Do we honestly have to do this? We were all told to minimize civilain casulties.",one of the terrorists said.

"We've no choice, if you have to fight your enemy effectivly, you must become like him.",the other replied.

"Shit philosophy."

"You're all insane", said the female hostage.

"I told you to shut up!"

"Go to hell."

JC dived out of the room and fired two shots at the terrorists, the hostages turned and ran down the other hallway, one of the terrorists recieved a shot to the leg and hobbled away, the other stood his ground and fired franaticly. JC sidesteped and shot the terrorist in the chest. The man droped to the ground, death's grip ensnareing him. JC rushed over to the other terrorist and hit with the but of his handgun. A quick check of his surronding's suggested no more terrorists in the upstairs region. JC holstered his pistol and approached the male hostage.

"Are you alright?"

"Yes, I'm fine. Thank you, you with the cops?",the hostage breathed.

"UNATCO."

"Huh, well, you might be intrested in what I heard those psychoes talking about. They said something about how they had just put in a generator in a warehouse several blocks away from here.",the man said.

"Really, did you catch the name of the street?"

"No, but I heard them discussing their security set up."

"Anything intresting?",JC asked

"It sounded like there was an underground access, they're useing the word "righteous" as some kind of password."

"That's very helpful, thanks."

"No problem."

JC gave a nod to the female hostage, who was busy trying to stop crying. So, JC thought, Underground access, secret warehouse generator. It all added up, but he needed more clues. He walked slowly down the stairs and into the main lobby, he looked around carefully; no terrorists in sight. He looked over to the reception desk and saw Gilbert Renton standing there, he's face a pasty white. JC walked casually over to him.

"You alright Mr Renton?"

"Uh, yes. Fine.",Gilbert quickly said. He had no poker face to speak of.

"You better get out of here, terrorists have seized the hotel."

"Ahhh.....can't, uh, leave the desk unattended."

"You'll be caught in the crossfire, I have to order you to leave the building.....Now." JC told him.

Mr. Renton's eyes trailed over to his side, they did so twice in quick succesion. "Yes, of course, I'll close up in a second...."

JC saw what was happening. Without another word he walked back a few steps, dove over the desk and seized an NSF terrorists neck.

"Gah! Please, mercy!"

JC punched him in the face, the terrorist dropped like a sack full of hammers. He turned to the sweating hotel owner. "You alright NOW?"

"Fine. I think that's all of them, you get the guys upstairs?" Gilbert said with a sigh.

"Yeah."

"You uh, did'nt happen to see Sandra anywhere recently did you?"

"No, I have'nt."

"She ran out on me a few days ago, I try not to think about it." Mr. Renton said sadly. Sandra was, by heart, a pretty nice young woman, but recently she had gotten mixed up in the wrong kind of business and was rapidly putting off her relationship with her father before she ran away. Was'nt the first time too. "If you see her......tell her, I don't care about what she's been doing, she can come home, no arguments, no question's asked."

"I'll tell her that she can trust you."

"I should probably go find her....Oh, I don't know..."

"I'll see you later." JC said.

JC walked out of the hotel, and met with a UNATCO trooper by the entrance.

"I hear shooting in there, are the hostages alright?" the grunt asked.

"They're all safe." JC assured him.

"Phew, now we don't have to put in for that specialist we were gonna hire. Good job Agent Denton." the trooper congratulated.

"All in a days work."

"You might wanna stop by the Underworld tavern, down the block, the patrons might have an idea of where this generator thingie is."

"I'll do that."

A short while later, JC was walking down the hall that led into the main bar area in the Underworld tavern. Inside, he found, alot of people had taken shealter in bar. Mostly patrons, but here and there he'd see a grouping of people with blankets huddled in a corner. He decided on business first. A beer. He went over to the counter. The bartender strode over to him, she was heavy in old style bio mechanical augmentation.

"What can I get ya?" she asked.

"A beer please."

"There you go." she handed him a cold forty, JC payed her 5 credits, and sipped slowly at his drink, while doing this, he overheard two people talking.

"...Ambrosia from a drug dealer?" one of them said, a male.

"You would never forgive yourself if-"

"I know, I know...."

JC interjected. "Just curious, I thought I heard you say Ambrosia."

"My wife has the plauge." the male said sadly.

The other, a female, looked at JC, "He already lost his daughter."

"Sorry to hear that" JC said.

"So do I trust some neighbor-hood punk, who says he has a cure, trust HIM with my wifes life?" the male said.

"You should do what you think is right." JC said.

"I think he should do it." the female said.

"By the way," JC said, "Do you know anything about an ellicit generator plant in a warehouse near here?"

"Hmmm...well, I did some construction work on one such place a few weeks ago. Strangest thing. They wanted to keep it all hush-hush." the male said

"Can you tell me where it is?"

"Oh sure, it's just a few blocks away...but you can't probably get there with all the police activity, even though my construction team DID get there by useing rooftops. It's a little past Os' Good and Sons."

"Thank you." JC said, and went toward the other side of the counter. There was a man there with graying hair, but a lean look. He wore a black jacket. JC returned to his beer, and the man spoke up to him. "Hey, you look like the vigilante type, wanna know where you could load up on some military hardware?" the man asked him.

"Where's that?"

"Valuable information, but I'll tell you: For the price of a beer."

JC turned instantly to the augmented bartender, "Can I have another beer?"

"Here." she said, while passing one to him. JC turned back to the smileing man." Here you go."

"His name's Smuggler."the man said "You can find his hideout down the block, go down a staircase, and give the password "Bloodshot" to the intercom. Then go down the elevator, and his place will be just a short walk away. Watch out for booby traps though, he's REAL paranoid."

"I'll pay him a visit."

"I'm Brian Flaneigan, but call me Jock. Want to know something nobody else can tell you?"

"For a beer, right?"

"Bars to the left."

JC repeated the same process he'd done a few moments before, and produced a beer to Jock.

"Area 51."

"You've heard about it, right? I used to fly people over there. Big shots and the sort."

"I'm sure plenty of bureacruats fly out there." JC said."And you're a pilot? What do you fly?"

"Helicopters. I don't ask questions, which is most of the reason I'm in my current line of work."

"I see."

"They say they got aliens down there, but I never saw any flying saucers. You ask me, I think it's some sort of digging operation. I've seen alot of debris come out of that place. Mabye thats where they sent all of the Echelon system, back when they promised they were gonna stop spying on people."

"Surveilance is a very distributed technology." JC said.

"I think they did it. They want to centralize everything."

"Know anything else worth the price of a beer?" JC asked.

"This old bird's had enough. Hell, I'm about to go on duty."

"What kind of pilot starts working at midnight?" JC asked.

"Heh, your with UNATCO right?" Jock asked in return.

"...Why do you ask?"

"I'm the one that flew your brother Paul to Hong Kong. He told me to watch out for you."

JC kept his expression carefully neutral." I did'nt know UNATCO hired pilots."

"The black helicopters are run by the NSA to support various classified op's. The Pentagon use's them, the CIA, the hire me because I dont ask questions." Jock said.

"What was Paul's assignment in Hong Kong?"

"Like I said, I can keep a secret, even between brothers."

"So.....he's holding something back. The reason why he got transferred back to the States."

"Listen to your brother--JC. Respect his experience. Let's leave it at that."

Jock turned around and left the bar. Something just didnt feel right. The transfer, Paul's recent behaviour, Jock's loyalty to Paul. There was something there, something JC could'nt put his finger on. He threw out his beer.

Authors Note: Yeah, yeah, I'm leaving it at that. I wanted to just get the next chapter out before I got lynched. Third chapter should conclude this mission. And I'm sorry for the lack of updates. Writers cramp (, hope you enjoyed this chapter!


	3. The Sewers and Hell's Kitchen part two

Deus Ex:The Conspiracy

Disclaimer: I do not own Deus Ex. All original ideas I come up with in this story however are mine and mine to keep, thank you very much.

Chapter Three:The Sewers, and Hell's Kitchen part two.

JC Denton spent the next ten minutes probing the Underworld Tavern patrons for information, most had no idea what was going on. Though he did come across two intresting subjects, a reporter for the local tabloids, and an on-the-verge of hysterical young woman. The reporter actually started to talk to JC first.

"Joe Green, Midnight Sun, glad to meet ya. What can you tell me about whats going on here huh?" the reporter asked him.

JC quickly moved to terminate the conversation. "Sorry, regulations prevent me from talking to the press."

Green was delighted, "Regulations eh? So you ARE part of the crackdown."

"Like before, I have nothing to say." JC said.

The reporter moved on, "Too stylish for the National Guard, too athletic for the NYPD. You must be from UNATCO."

JC's temper was running short. "I really can't be bothered right now."

Before the reporter could continue, a woman in a.....rather revealing outfit came running up to him. The reporter smiled and shut up.

"Are you with the troops? I need help." the lady asked him, her voice trailing toward a shreik.

"Uh, whats the problem?", JC asked.

"Actually, it's my friend, Johnny took her out into the ally west of here, across the street.", she told him.

"Slow down, who's Johnny?"

"He was mad, He gets crazy when he's mad."

"I'll look into it, just stay here and, calm down."

JC turned around and left the bar, he's thought's turning to Sandra. He's suspicions were comfirmed when he looked down the alley in question, to see two people talking, one was at least 21 years old, and wearing a jacket with obscenities written all over it. The other was Sandra Renton. She was backed into a corner, and it did'nt look like a friendly conversation.

"What I'm telling you girl?!" the guy said.

"Y-you said I did'nt have to. Make Janey do it." Sandra told him, some friend she was, JC thought.

"Already took the money, and if it's JoJo and it's something he wants- You gotta do it. You and me both baby, we helpless." the pimp told her, attempting to sound innocent.

"We were just gonna hang out today." Sandra said.

"I told how I don't play with this amateur unprofessional BULLSHIT." the pimp yelled.

"Johnny....." Sandra said, hysteria creeping into her voice.

"If it's business: It's business. If it's us two hanging out, then we hang out. Right now; it's business."

"I want out, Johnny," Sandra suddenly demanded. "I did'nt know it would get like this."

"Hmm. Let me put it this way. You want out it's like a gang: You get BEAT out." the pimp threatened.

JC sensed that violence was about to errupt and walked calmly into the alley, Johnny turned to him, barely putting on a straight face.

"What you want?" he said, he was obviously in no mood for chit-chat.

JC tried the "business" approach first "How much is it to take this girl off your hands for an hour?"Sandra nearly screamed.

"Two hundred." Johnny said, now grinning.

"How about we go for cheaper?" JC hageled.

"No way. She's worth at least two hundred." Johnny said firmly. "And you don't scare me with all these fake augmentations."

JC decided to cut to the chase. "You've got ten seconds to beat it before I add you to the list of NSF casulties."

Johnny looked momentarily shocked, then grinned nervously as JC began to count. "Easy bro'. Just having us a conversation."

"Five seconds."

Johnny's grin fadded. "Girls got a head full of marbles! I have to yell. Or she don't hear me."

"Three."

Johnny started to panic, "She schitzes on me: It's my ass man!"

"One." JC said, pulling out his pistol.

"Alirght! I'm going. I'm going. Jesus." Johnny practicly screamed. He turned and ran as fast as his feet could take him down the alley.

Sandra actually hugged him "Thanks!"

JC slowly removed her. "Sucks to get backed into a corner."

"I was trying to find the back way into Smugglers." she said.

"Right, the weapons dealer." JC said. "Looks like I'm gonna have to pay him a visit."

Sandra's voice turned from gratitude to worry, "Hey, you shouldent have threatened Johnny. Soon as JoJo finds out-"

"Who IS this JoJo anyway?" JC asked.

"You can't touch JoJo. He does'nt go out, and there's only two way's into the warehouse."

"...Go on."

"You can sneak into Os' Goods in the park, but it's locked down what with all the fighting and stuff."

"The fighting has died down there."

"..And then there are trip wire's, turrets, military type. And there are guards on the roof." Sandra said.

"Tell you what. I'll handle JoJo. Now you stay inside untill the fighting has stopped." JC told her.

"I can take care of myself." Sandra said.

"Where's the backway into Smugglers by the way?" JC asked.

"Oh, that. It's behind the basketball court."

"Thanks, and by the way. Your father's safe. He wanted to know if your safe."

"Ugh."

"Well, he wanted me to tell you that you could go home, no questions, no speechs."

"Like I said, I can take care of myself."

Sandra turned toward the tavern, and walked away. A few minutes later, JC arrived at the basket ball court near the subway station. He saw a commotion going on. A bum was pinned to the ground by two thugs. Both were armed with meele weapons. Another bum ran up to JC. "Do something man! Their gonna kill him!"

JC went over to the three men.

"Nothing." One of the thugs. "I checked his pockets."

Another one spoke up, "You don't live underground and not have one of Charlie's cards. Make him take of his shoes."

"I-I just sleep down there. They don't give you money unless you're on the council." the bum replied.

"Take off you're shoes.", the thug demanded.

The other shoved the bum, "Charlie has no reason to be stingy if he has a currency-encoder."

"They just hacked a few accounts! They have some extra cash. That's it."

The thug's tone turned hostile. "I'm NOT asking again."

"It's just a bunch of us. We go down there to keep out of the cold." the bum said.

"Alright. We'll do it the hard way."

Both of the thugs brandished their weapons, the bum punched the first one in the nose and took off running. Without hesitating, JC whiped out his pistol and shot them. The thugs collapsed to the ground in a bloody heap. The bum poked his head out from behind the fence of the court."Did you see that?"

"Yes I-"

"That was uncalled for! You mug people great, you need the doe. But you SHOW some RESPECT." the bum cried.

"Those guys....were they NSF?" JC asked.

"Yeah they come into the tunnels, we figure they aint so bad though. Thanks a bunch. Listen, if you ever need to contact the mole people, just give the password "Underworld.".With that, the bum ran off. JC looked over to the other bum who was busy mumbleing about looking for a manhole to crawl under. He looked off to the side of the basketball court and saw an opening there. He went down it and saw two big storage trailers. Strange place for a hideout. He opened the first and saw nothing, he went around the back and opened the next one. There was a ladder leading downward. There was a "keep out" sign hanged above it. A few minutes later, he was in an old parking lot. His info-link suddenly came to life. Alex again.

"Our files show that the Smuggler is whacked out paranoid. Watch out for booby traps. And the latest news; Pauls team has run into heavy resistance, so their gonna be delayed while we bring in chopper support."

JC looked toward an opening in the far side of the room, he saw a door there. Problem was, there was a set of laser's blocking it. JC walked back a few feet and preformed a dive over the laser's. He hit the ground without hitting a single beam, and procedded over to the door, where he found Smuggler's lair. He walked into the center of the room. Nothing. He turned to leave when there was a cocking of a gun.

"What do you want?",a voice said.

"Why the booby traps? You afraid of something?"

A man walked out of the shadows. He carried an Assault Shotgun. JC assumed this was Smuggler."Just precautions."

"Against what?" JC asked.

"Governments been having some kind of crackdown all year. People I know; they've been disapearing." Smuggler said.

Oh brother. Not another conspiracy addict. "Is that so?" JC said sarcasticly.

"Think it's a big joke?!" The Smuggler said angrily. "Lift up a grate on the street. They've got my friend Ford Shick in a secret lab next to the sewers."

Intresting. "A lab...in the sewers? Maybe he was taken hostage by the NSF."

"These guys are pros. Definately government funded." Smuggler said firmly.

"Intresting. Maybe I'll take a look, but I think you should show a bit more regard for the United States government." JC told him

"......Really? Well If you're serious about going down there and finding Ford, I'll give you a deal on some hardware. Take this key too. It can open up two of the sewer grates on the street level." Smuggler said.

"How about that hardware?"

The Smuggler went over to a button on the far wall and pressed it. A few parts of the wall turned over to reveal several assorted military weapons, all with price tags.

"Too expensive." JC said, allthough expensive was an understatement here."I'll see if I can locate your friend."

Jack ran as fast as he could through-out the sewers, he had extremly important information to deliver to Paul Denton, for he was an NSF Private, and now he knew something he doubted much other people did. Problem was, he was being chased by men in black gear armed with machine guns, and all he had was a standard issue pistol. And a gas grenade. Jack came to a catwalk overlooking a waterfall of sewer water. He looked in front of him. His point of entry was right there! He was in the clear. Just then, two black suited thug's came out from the way he came, pointing their guns at him rather menacingly. Jack decided that so far his luck was pretty shitty.

"Now then.....you'll surrender." one of them said.

"Or not much will be left of you to feed to the greasels." the other told him.

Jack considered his options carefully, he could jump, and fall down into contaimenated sewer water...or he could stand here and face these thugs. Both choices were'nt really appealing. He heard the two men putting their guns off of safty. He looked toward the water, across from him lay an opening in the wall, with a ladder leading from the lake of sewer water up to it. At least he had a game plan now. He jumped from the catwalk and hoped he could catch the ladder before making contact with the sewer lake. The black suited soldiers instantly opened fire on the falling form. Jack caught one of the ladder rungs and started to quickly ascend toward the opening. He unholstered his pistol and started fireing aimlessly at the two soldiers, they both dove to avoid the shot's, giving Jack enough time to fully climb the ladder. The two soldiers turned and started operating the nearby bridge control panel. Jack ran down a twisting corridor and came across a locked door with a keypad near it, he pulled out a multi-tool and started operating the panel. He could hear the bridge turning, giving the enemy soldiers the chance to catch up with him. One number.....two......three...He could hear them running down the corridor......Got it! The last number transmitted and the door slid open. He rushed through it and shut the door behind him. He turned and examined the room he found himself in. It was yet another corridor, but sewer water had swamped it. He could see a ladder all the way down it. NOW he was home free. He rushed quickly down the corridor. He did'nt even notice that he'd ran past a trip wire in his haste, nor did he notice a drone turret pull itself out of the ceiling. The turret opened fire on the NSF private. Jack collapsed to the ground. Breathing heavily, he cursed himself for being so careless. The two soldiers from before finnaly arrived near his limp form.

"Turret got him."

"Wait, he's still breathing."

"So put him out."

"Don't mind if I do."

Jack wanted a bit of revenge before he went, he fliped himself up and fired two shots from his pistol, both bullets pierced the enemy soldiers skulls, sending them to the ground. With a satisfied sigh, Jack died.

JC opened a man hole lid in the street near the basket ball court. He looked down skeptically, wondering if he should go ahead with this. He decided he might as well do it, this kind of thing was worth investigating. He went down two ladders and suddenly found himself in a cavernous chamber that looked like a water treatment facility. His infolink chimed in.

"These tunnels don't appear on any New York city sewer maps....I don't know what you might be getting into, but this seems worth following up. I'll stay in touch."

JC walked into the room and examined it. There was a large waterfall feeding water into a large lake below, the water looked contaminated. A catwalk spanned the length of the room, it lead to a small office on the other said of the chamber. He looked downward and saw two opening's in the wall with ladders leading into them. He barely even noticed a black suited soldier demanding his surrender.

"Alright wise guy, we'll do it the hard way."

The soldier brandished his machine gun and started firing at him, JC was taken aback and took a round to the arm, ignoring screeching pain, he ran up to the soldier and punched him hard in the face, sending the soldier flying off the catwalk. He watched the soldier fly to the bottom of the chamber, and hit the water, where he would undoubtly come across a messy fate. JC fingered around in his pocket's and brought out a medkit, he took off the lid to the cover and chugged the medicine inside, which almost instantly healed him. Medical technology had come a long way since the 20th century, now with a simple drink(a rather disgusting one at that.) you could heal wound's like bullet holes. Nano-machine's enhabited the substance, which effectivly speed up the healing process. This was basicly the closest an average-joe on the street could get to nano-augmentation, besides generic mech-augs. No medkit could let one escape Grey Death however. JC made his way down the catwalk and went into the office, inside was a desk, and a stack of crates. A datacube rested underneath the table, JC bent down and picked it up to examine it's contents. Datacubes were a revolutionary new form of note-keeping invented in the 2030's. With a press of a button on the face of the cube, the contents of the note are displayed in a holographic image over the datacube. This particular one had a login and password for a security console which dictated the direction the catwalk would face. Login: MJ-12, Password:Coup'detat. JC frowned at the phrase, "MJ-12". Now where had he heard about that before.....He went back outside and went down a nearby ladder, and into a winding corridor. Two black-suited soliders stood at a door at the far end of the corridor. JC took out his assault rifle and sprayed the troops with bullets before they knew what hit them. He holstered his weapon and walked over to one of the bodies to examine him. His helmet read the letters "X II". Wait, not letters. They were roman numerals for the number twelve. Their assault rifles held the same insignia. Odd. He stood up, and opened the door.

Ford Schick paced around the biological experimentation chamber for what must of been the umpteenth time. The time between experiments in this place could get majesticly boring. Majestic. He frowned at thinking the word. There was absolutly nothing to do here. Besides watching ameabas convulse and reproduce, which in itself was sensationally dull. He sighed unhappily. He was a scientist by heart, but he'd helped Smuggler here and there with some weapons deals. They went way back. He was working on one such deal when they had captured him. Majestic-Twelve. In probably was'nt a coincedence that that particular transaction was marked for raiding. Ford was probably the best augmentation scientist in New York, let alone the country. He smiled. Fat chance at that. So now here he was, doing nano-augmentation research for a bunch of black uniformed thugs. Every time he had to do an experiment someone usually died. They were mostly bums on the streets or the sort, but it made him feel terrible every time. He was tasked with making augmentation nanites more acceptable to the regular human body, not a subject that had to be created in a test tube. He was told that spending all the money on creating nano-augmented agent's was infruiatingly expensive, and it would be far easier if they could find a way to make regular humans accept the nanites. So that was his duty. And the bodies kept on piling up because of it. He looked into a microscope and watched ameabas float around for awhile, then returned to his paceing. Suddenly, he heard gun shots ring out from nearby. He held his breath as he heard bullets fly and the crunch of falling bodies. He thought about trying to hide somewhere, but there was nothing big enough to hide under or in in the room. The action stopped suddenly, and he heard footsteps aproaching his lab. He whimpered patheticly. The door to his lab slid open and he retreated to back of the room. A man in a black trench coat walked in. He gave him a quick look.

"You must be Ford Schick." the man observed.

"W-who are you?!" Ford asked nervously.

"JC Denton. Smuggler sent me. Who's holding you here? I don't recognize the uniforms on the soldiers here." the man asked.

"I don't know" Ford lied. You'd never know if a simple lie could help you in the long run. "They work for a biotech company or something. They have me doing antibody work."

JC snorted, "Coporate security is'nt usually outfitted to fight a ground war."

"Their doing experiment's on people, they don't want anybody finding out." Ford said.

"In any case I'm here to get you out. Make a break for it. There should'nt be much security left, but I'll cover you." JC told him.

"Right. Here I go."

Ford started running, eager to escape from this wretched place. JC Denton followed him closely, they both ran untill that came to the catwalk.

"I can make it from here." Ford said. "If you see Smuggler-Tell him I'm alright."

JC nodded and ascended up the ladder across from him. Ford stood there for a minute, then, followed shortly.

JC found himself on street level again, and decided that he'd uncovered enough secrets and clues for one night. He went over to the park, where several ambulence's had arrived and were towing bodies and wounded men back to hospitals around the city. He looked over to the Os' Good and Son's warehouse and aproached the door. It was locked. A UNATCO trooper spoting him struggleing to force the door open and came running over.

"Hey JC, I think I've got the key for that door right here. Found it off the body of one of those bastards......Annnnd here we go."

The door unlocked. JC went inside and looked around. The UNATCO trooper shruged and went back over to the park. JC looked around the small room, a passage leading out on the far left, a blocked off passage to the left, and nothing but wall in the middle. JC decided to take the blocked off passage, which was blocked with metal crates. Easily fixed with his very first augmentation, the microfibrial muscle. He lifted both crates and peered down a now exposed stair-way. He went down it and faced yet another corridor, this one however, was filled with trip-wires and machine gun turrets. Bingo. JC went over to a nearby control panel, upon multi-tooling it, the panel poped open and the laser beams disapated. JC ran down the passage, through a nearby door, and into an elevator. JC pressed the "up" button, and the elevator ascended several stories up. A buzzing noise signaled the elevator's arrival and JC stepped off. He was in the warehouse district. Now all he had to do was find the NSF power generator. His infolink chimmed in.

"Sending you a sattleite image of the warehouse district. X's represent NSF troops, be carefull, some of them have sniper rifles."

JC mentally checked his datavault. Datavaults are standard issue among all kinds of augmented agents. They contain critcal information that can be summoned upon mentally with the help of nanite infusion. A simple thought and you're whole world is replaced with a list of images or notes. He looked closly at the map of the district. The ground area was littered with LAM emplacment's and guard dogs. Not to mention a few scores of NSF troopers. Though still dangerous, the rooftops route seemed to be safer. JC ascended a ladder and saw an NSF sniper resting near the south roof end. He got up from the ladder and sneaked by the sniper, he seizeed the terrorist by the neck and subdued him. He quietly layed the motionless form to rest on the roof, and then he leapt down onto a broken down fire escape. He looked out and saw exactly what he was looking for. A warehouse about a hundred feet away, with NSF crawling all over it. He looked around and descended the fire escape, jumping from it to a nearby rooftop. Another sniper was patroling here. JC took him out with a punch delivered to the back of his head. JC took the terrorists sniper rifle and zoomed down it's scope. His aim a shaky, but he was confident that he could make the shot. He fired 5 shots, taking out every single terrorist. He sighed with relif, and looked around, there was a glass window adjacent to him, with a small plank extending over an artifical valley of two buildings. He walked over the plank and smashed the window with the butt of his rifle, and went through.

Paul was rather angry. In one single night, everything that should'nt of happened had happened. He was ready to tear the throats out of every UNATCO thug in the helicopter he currently resided in. The surface-to-air missle team had been eliminated as they where heading toward the site where they were supposed to shoot down the chopper', and the assault team had gotten through unscathed and were five minutes from the warehouse. He could only hope now that JC somehow failed in getting to the emp field generator before the assault team reached the objective. However, that was looking very unlikely now, as he kept on getting good reports from Manderley on JC's progress. No matter. He still had one card left up his sleeve.

"Alright everybody", Paul said to the group of soldiers in the chopper, "Get ready to fight, resistance is expected to be high, so as soon as I give the order, go in hard, and we should be able to knock em' down before they knew what hit em'......AM I UNDERSTOOD?"

"SIR YES SIR", the UNATCO troops cried in unison.

"Good to hear it." Paul said.

The pilot motioned for Paul to come up to the cockpit. "I just got word, your brother just took out the emp generator, and we're one minute from the LZ."

".....Roger." Paul said. Damn. "Okay ladies, it's show time."

The side of the helicopter opened up and Paul looked out to see the large warehouse in the distance. The chopper' cleared the LZ and all the soldiers jumped out on repel ropes. Paul released his rope and the chopper' flew off.

"Where the hell are they?" Kaplan asked. "I expected more of a fight when we got here."

"They're probably in the warehouse. Let me scout out the area, you guys stay here." Paul told them. He ran off into the darkness. When he was certain he could'nt be seen, he took out a small radio.

"It's show time."

"Roger Paul." Decker Parkes said.

Kaplan sighed and sat down to smoke a cigarette, when the doors to the warehouse split open and hoardes of NSF troopers spilled out into the area.

" SHIT! Where the hell is Paul?! Open fire!" Kaplan yelled.

Kaplan took aim with his assault gun and began to randomly fire in all directions, the terrorist's seemed to be coming out of the walls. Meanwhile on the roof, Paul, Decker, Erin, and Young began to load barrels of Ambrosia into a helicopter, while snipers took shots at the rapidly dwindling number of hostiles on the ground.

"These thing's are heavy." Erin complained.

"Stop complaining, we've only got three left." Decker said.

Young looked over to the nearest sniper. "How's it going down there?"

"Well," the sniper said, as he took a shot."-shit- we're getting beat back, they just brought in chopper support!"

With this, Paul unslung a gepgun he had on his back, and took aim at the chopper. The aiming reticle turned red for a locked on target and he fired, the missle flew into the chopper, bringing it down in a ball of flame.

"That should bring us enough time to escape, order the ground troops to evacuate to the roof, we're getting out of here!" Paul yelled.

Decker got onto his radio. "Alrighty boys, you did your work, get back up here and we'll pull you out."

"Roger! We'll let the turrets finish them off, and thanks, we were getting ripped to shreads."

Paul and the others filed into the helicopter along with the last barrel of Ambrosia. Young sighed.

"We might just pull this off. We lost at least forty-three men tonight, this better be worth it." he said.

The troopers from the ground floor spilled out onto the rooftop and raced into the chopper'. The sniper's quickly joined them. Paul motioned to the pilot.

"Get us outta here."

The helicopter lifted off the roof, and flew off into the night.

JC Denton ran up to the roof of the warehouse. He'd eliminated all the resistance inside and had blown up the generator. Gunther Hermann ran up to greet him.

"Manderley has assigned me the peace-keeping occupation of this district." Gunther said. He sounded pissed off.

"I took care of the generator." JC said.

"I've noticed." Gunther said dryly.

"Uh, how'd the raid go?" JC asked.

Gunther sighed. "They should of sent Agent Navarre. Your brother is timid like a child."

"Did something go wrong?" JC asked.

"You don't need to hear anything from me. Take the helicopter back to base, I'm sure Manderley has a breifing for all the top agents." Gunther said.

Gunther motioned to the nearby black helicopter and it's sides opened up. A flurry of UNATCO troops filed out and came to attention near Gunther.

"Alright, follow me!" Gunther yelled. Gunther turned from JC and ran down the ramp extending into the enterrior of the structure, with the troopers in tow. JC went over to the helicopter and jumped in. He fastened himself in his seatbelt and the chopper took off. He sighed and was about to fall asleep when the pilot chuckled.

"Hey JC." the pilot said.

"Who-Wait, you're the guy from the bar! The one asking for the bear." JC said.

"Hehe, that's me.", Brian "Jock" Flanegian said."Next stop:UNATCO HQ."

Authors Note: Well, that's the next chapter, hope you enjoyed. Chater four will be out soon, and I apologize again for the delay.


	4. Brooklen Bridge Station and the Airfield

Deus Ex: The Conspiracy.

Disclaimer: I DO NOT own Deus Ex, Warren Spector, or anything else involved with Deus Ex. Thank you.

Chapter Four: Brooklen Bridge Station and the Airfield.

Jock's black helicopter flew over the open harbor toward Liberty Island. JC Denton slept soundly in the copter' untill they arrived, and instantly awoke without even a yawn. He jumped from the copter' as Jock said, "I'll stay here untill you get briefed by Manderley, see you later."

JC nodded and started walking for the door to UNATCO HQ when two large men walked out. They were even bigger then him. They both wore sunglass's, and had really uptight black suits on. One of them approached JC. He spoke in a slightly mechanical voice.

"Mr. Denton." the MIB said.

"Yeah?" JC asked.

"The prisoners on level three are a sensitive matter, leave the interrogation's to Mr. Simons. You are to recieve your order's from Mr. Manderley on level two, after which you will return to the helipad." The MIB told him. JC did'nt even know about any prisoners, but he shruged it off. Like he was even gonna interfere. But the name "Simons" rung a bell. Where had he heard that name before?

"Simons......You guy's from DC? What Agency?" JC inquired.

"Proceed to Manderleys office Mr. Denton. We will expect to see you shortly." the MIB said firmly. With that, the MIB left to join his companion near the helicopter. JC looked at the MIB's back and was suprised to see an eye like mechanism on the back of his neck. He quickly turned around, suddenly paranoid. He walked into HQ as Alex's voice came over the infolink.

"Your mission was a success--Just about the only bright side of the operation. Manderley will see you inside."

A UNATCO troop tapped him on the shoulder's inside. "Anna was gunning her motors about how you handled Castle Clinton, guess you cleaned the place out." he said. JC continued on inside and was greeted by Private Lloyd. "Heard you were a hero at the park, good going." So, only a few hours on the team and he was a hero already. He went down the stairs and was soon in the interrior of UNATCO HQ. He went down to Manderley's office first and saw Anna Navarre waiting impatiently at the door. Janice Reed was playing a game of mine-sweeper on her computer, and looked up to see JC walking in. She was about to speak when Anna chimmed in.

"I was here first." she said.

Janice frowned at Anna then turned to JC, "Mr. Manderley is having a meeting, Agent Denton. You'll have to wait."

"I was told to report for a debriefing." JC said.

Anna smiled."A debriefing....Don't worry, I will tell Manderley that I was satisfied with your performance." she assured him.

JC walked over to the other side of Manderley's door and shifted uneasily near Anna.

"Be quiet," she snapped."I'm trying to listen...."

JC decided to do the same. He caught blurb's of the the meeting.

".......arrogant son-of-a-bitch." one of them said.

"I was'nt exaggerating! He's our best agent...." that one was Manderley.

"We don't need him. We have his........more on the way."

"........nothing."JC could only catch snippets, the rest was unknown to him.

"I think he.........You..........sent him to Hong Kong."

".......sensible. We have to look at........record."

".....understand. He was ........project. But it's out of my hands. Now that........shipment's.....lost."

"I know, I........I will comply with the order."

"That's..............ask. Carry...........downstairs to...............the prisoner's."

The converstation ended, JC looked over to Anna to she if she had heard anything, she simply nodded once at him, and the door to Manderley's office opened. A large mech-looking man stepped out. He barely looked at JC and was about to step out of Janices office when JC introduced himself.

"Agent Denton, at your service." he said as politely as he could.

The man did'nt look impressed."Denton......Yes, I hear you're turning out to be quite an asset to the Coalition."

"Doing my best sir. Forgive me, but I don't believe I know your name."JC said.

"We are'nt ready for an introduction yet. No, it's not the time. Just keep your nose to the pavement. You will be rewarded, trust me." the man said. With that, the man left. JC looked at Anna questioningly.

"That was Walton Simons, the director of FEMA. You should not disturb him, I am sure he has more important business to attend to besides talking to rookie's." she said coldly.

"........Right. Let's go." JC said.

Both of them walked into the office.

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Walton Simons walked into the detention block of UNATCO HQ. He hated this place, he hated Manderley, and most of all, he hated those two Denton's. It made him sick to his stomach to think that 12 billion dollars in total had been put into the augmentation project, and the end result was Paul Denton. Then, after seeing what a "great" agent he was, they poured ANOTHER 6 billion into creating JC. Credits did'nt grow on tree's. And now another one was on the way, Alex Denton. If given a choice, he would almost certainly say that only HE was the most successful subject.

He was cold. Those Denton's were already proving to be major pain-in-the-asses. He could only hope that JC would'nt follow in Paul's footsteps, or there'd be hell to pay. He sighed as he nodded to the trooper standing guard, actually, playing with a rubex cube would be more apropriate. He'd have to remind himself to suggest to Manderley that he should be fired. He walked into the cell that contained two NSF rebel's. He gave them a slow intimidating stare, then settled into a seat. He lit up a cigarrete, and took a long drag on it. He flicked it away, the ashes of the butt disipating on contact with the cold steel floor.

"I have one question." Walton told the nearest terrorist, the other one stared at him, nervously. The one he was addresing did'nt flinch. He quickly rose up to make himself seem bigger then Simons.

"That already asked. I DON'T KNOW." the prisoner told him.

Walton sighed."One must admire a man who can keep a secret, because he has value. What you know more then other's make's money, and gives you a measure of power."

The terrorist laughed."You Walton Simons? You THINK I can be bribed?!" the rebel boomed.

Walton took out another cigarette and smoked it, between puff's he spoke."Margaret Forsythe, under NSF protection in Queens. Your son Richard, attending Bronx Science. You see, I have a few relevant fact's myself.....Care to make a trade?"

The terrorist drew back as if he'd just been slapped."You, you would'nt......d-dare."

"I'll give you two seconds to decide." He paused to take a drag on the cigarette, and threw it, the butt joined the other discarded one."Time's up. Where is the NSF taking the Ambrosia?"

The rebel sighed. "They asked me already. I DON'T KNOW!"

Once again, Walton lit up another cigarette."Need I remind you that in the case of a national emergency, FEMA has a list of six million who will be transported to detention centers? Your tabloids call it "RX-84..." Walton said, once again using the terrorist's families safety against him.

"Yeah, including the President, Congress, and the Supreme Court." the rebel said.

"In my position, I find it VERY easy to add name's to that list." Walton said almost indiferently.

The rebel cracked his knuckle's, and spat in Walton's face."Go to hell."

Walton whiped his face, and stood up. The terrorist paced around him, obviously seeing if he could win this. "The United State's has had "emergency powers" since World War two. We've never left a state of war."

"Speak for yourself, the government is just responding to a threat." Walton said.

"A government should be more then self-perpetuation."the rebel said.

"You will confess by the way," Simon's said sinisterly."I don't like to dirty my hand's with that sort of thing but, you will confess."

The terrorist simply gave him a long stare. Walton continued. "Certain intellectual properties, aside from the qualities of the vaccine, concern me deeply. Has the NSF made any attempt's at reverse enginering?" Walton asked.

"Leave. Me. Alone." the terrorist sighed.

"I am a patient man." Walton said coldly.

"Heh, ask me if I care." the rebel laughed.

That was it. He'd had enough."But not that patient." Walton said, and with that, he activated his microfibral muscle augmentation and round house kicked the terrorist that had been watching the whole time, breaking his neck with a satisfying snap. It had been so long since Walton had killed another man. It felt wonderous. The other terrorist knew he was about to die, and all he could think about as Walton sent him to the ground and started to crush his face, was his poor, beloved family.

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JC walked out of Manderley's office with alot on his mind. Paul had failed, and the Coalition was letting him go. That made him the only nano-augmented agent left in the agency. He was'nt sure what to think about this. He had an un-obscured chance of excellency now in the ranks, now with Paul gone.But he had'nt reported back yet. It was making everyone at the Coalition rather suspicous, and it would be a lie to himself if he said he did'nt feel the same. At any rate, he had been assigned yet another mission in Manhatten, he was charged with finding the rest of the Ambrosia shipment, starting with Battery Park. He went into his office, and logged onto his computer. There was an email from Paul. He quickly opened it up, and despite of himself, he looked around the room twice before reading it, still paranoid of tall men with eye's at the back of their necks.

JC, I don't have much time, so I'll have to cut this short. Their going to tell you alot of thing's that went down today, and alot of it is gonna get pinned on me. I've got my reasons, but I can't go into them- Not on the net. But you've got to trust me. Maybe I can point you in the right direction, see if you can tap some computer's....Try Manderley's. His password is "knightkiller" Also, see if you can get into Navarre's computer, her password is "scryspc.". Cold woman, be carefull around her, and for that matter: Everyone else.

The message ended there. Without even thinking he went back into Manderley's office- To find that it was empty. He heard rustling inside of Manderley's bathroom and logged into his computer. There was a report from someone called "WS". It was a message refering to "WS's" arrival, and the.......termination of a primary unit in favor of a secondary unit. Without bothering to log out, he stepped away from the computer in a daze. Primary......Secondary....what could that mean?

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Jock waited inside his helicopter for twenty minutes before JC came back out. He looked frazzeled. He hit a button, and the side of his helicopter opened up, and JC entered.

"You alright?" Jock asked.

"Yeah. I'm fine. We're going to-" JC started

"Battery Park, I know. Let's get moving." Jock said.

The black helicopter rose from the ground and rapidly began to it's flight over open water.

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Maggie Chow and her two bodyguards walked into Yuen Kong's long ornate office in the central building of the industrial sector of Hong Kong, the Datral Tower. She smiled at Yuen, and told her bodyguard's to disperse.Yuen simply smiled back and told his own bodyguards to do the same.

"Miss Chow.......what bring's you here at this hour?" Yuen asked.

"Hello Yuen, baby." Maggie said in her purr of a voice.

".......Is something wrong?" Yuen asked.

"Actually, honey, there IS something wrong...........do you know what it is?"Maggie said elusivly.

Yuen's eye's narrowed. "And, what is it?"

She twindled her fingers around on the desk. "You see.....I've lost something very important. And I think you took it from me."

"What are you talking about Maggie?!" Yuen demanded.

"The Dragons Tooth Sword. I believe that you stole it from VersaLife. And that has made me very angry....." Maggie said, almost casually.

Yuen stared at her."How.....how did you-" That was as far as he got. Before Maggie suddenly took out a small knife, and tossed it into his shoulder." AGHH! You......bitch........."

"Oh.......how dare you insult a lady. I think you deserve another punishment for that......" Maggie said. She pulled the knife out of his shoulder and slit his face with it. It was extremly painful. Walton Simon's watched the tape from his office at FEMA, and turned to Maggie, who was standing right next to him. "You are to be comended. You did of course send out the leak that the Luminous Path stole the sword, correct?"

Maggie smiled."Of course Mr. Simons. It should'nt be long now before MJ-12 can begin it's take over of Hong Kong."

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Jock's helicopter hovered over Castle Clinton for a moment, before gliding over to the entrance. The door's to the helicopter swung open, and Jock turned to JC.

"I got orders to let you off over here, good luck."

JC nodded and jumped off the chopper. He landed with a thud and looked back up. Jock's helicopter gave a short jerk as the door's snapped shut, and then it took off into the distance. Alex came in over the infolink.

"We're dropping you in Battery Park. We know the NSF were moving materials through here at one point, so it seem's like a good place to start looking."

JC wlaked over to a nearby riot cop. The cop saw him coming and quickly spoke up. "Hey, you're with UNATCO right?"

"That's right." JC told him

"If you're looking for suspects or something like that, I would start over at the shanty town."

"Thank you." JC said.

A few mintues later, JC walked into the middle of the shanty town that stood at the far side of the park. Such area's were becoming rapidly more common in New York. There were a total of 11 structure's around, with a group of 23 bum's camping out. He remembered this place from when he'd saved hostage's nearby an hour ago. He wondered where to start, and decided on the nearest one. Inside, he found two bums-one male, one female huddled over a burning barrel. They were in the middle of a conversation when JC came in. The male smiled at him. JC spoke to him first. "I can think of safer place's to camp...what with all the fighting tonight."

The man laughed."Curly Robinson, nice to meet ya, and cop's said I could be here. Besides, I'm with the mole people."

Mole people......that was what the bum from Hell's Kitchen had told him about."JC Denton. Why the name "Mole people"?" JC asked.

Curly let out another laugh, but less enthusiastic this time. "They call us that because we live underground, huh, like their some kind of "superior being's" or something because they got more money then we do."

"Maybe you should join your people, anywhere underground would be safer then Battery Park." JC suggested.

"The mole's need someone topside." Curly said."Besides, it's been pretty quiet. I'd rather be here than have the NSF tromping around with machine guns...."

NSF. Underground. Good, he was getting somewhere. "The NSF are hiding out with the mole people?" he asked.

"Yeah, but they haven't hurt anybody. We figure it ain't so bad."Curly said with a shrug.

JC choose his words carefully, "I need to contact the NSF. Think you could tell me how to find the mole's?"

"Sure, just gimmie the password so I know they trust ya." Curly said.

JC searched his memory briefly, then came up with a find. "Underworld."

"Great, inside the station you'll find a phone booth, just put this number combination into it and you're set. M-O-L-E. That's 6653.And talk to Charlie when you get to Brooklen Bridge station, he'll get you into the tunnels where we live."

JC nodded and left Curly and his friend behind. Curly called out from behind, "Glad I could help!"

JC walked down the stairs to the subway platform and spotted the phone booth. He walked into it and punched in the combo Curly had given him. With a sudden jolt, the phone booth turned itself around, and lowered itself into the bowels of the station. A minute passed before the booth hit the ground. JC stepped out, and walked through twisting hall's and came to a ladder mounted on the wall, he climbed it, and unhinged the manhole covering that spanned the opening, and found himself in an old derilect subway station. Several people shauntered about, some looked curiously in his direction, but most of them seemed to ignore him. He asked walked over to the nearest person.

"Are you Charlie?" JC asked.

"Yeah, that's me." Charlie replied.

"I hear the NSF are using the Mole People hideout as a base." JC told him

"Are you from the fed's? We don't need a war down here."

"I work for UNATCO." JC admitted.

Charlie sighed. "Well, the NSF come through here, but they don't bother us. If we need help with anything, it's our plumbing. We lost pressure because of the explosions on South Street."

"Tough break."JC said,"You tell me about the NSF, and I'll put in a word with the city about the water. "

"The city don't know we got water and they don't NEED to know." Charlie said almost angrily."How bout' you fix it, then I'll talk."

JC was sick to death of doing favors for one night. "I don't have much time."

"Would open the valve myself, but the cave-in's blocked the untility door. It's up by the north tracks, if you wanna take a look."Charlie told him.

"Clearing a tunnel. That would require some explosives." JC said.

"Well you're in luck, the Rook's-their the gang that reside's upstairs-just found some lam's. Strike a deal up with them and you're in luck."

"The Rooks. Right." JC said. He turned around and left Charlie behind. There must be an easier way to do this, He thought. He entered the men's room and came across a wild-eyed junkie holding a lam. He looked at JC as if he were the devil. "Get out! I got a bomb!"

"A bomb's a bad choice for close range combat." JC joked.

"Might as well use it. Rock say's I owe him, he won't even give me one vial for it!" The junkie said.

"Vial.....you talking about Zyme?" JC asked. Zyme was a dangerous new drug that sent a subject into a state of euphoria. Twelve dose's in a matter of one hour would be enough to kill a large sized man.

"Y-y-yeah, you got some?" the junkie asked hopefully.

"....No. But suppose I get some, can you part with that bomb?" JC offered.

"Oh yes. Definitly! Do it, do it, do it, do it!" the junkie cried.

JC rolled his eye's and left. Of course, regulation's did not allow drug trafficking, but he was sure Manderley would make an exception for this. He hoped. He looked around, and saw an mech wearing bio-electric goggles near the end of the tracks. He walked up to him. The man smiled and began to speak. "Rock's the name, drug's the game. What you need bro'?"

"Some Zyme." JC asked.

Rock reached into his pocket's and produced several vial's of zyme."Vial's are 250."

JC sighed. He reached into his pocket's and gave him a chit of credits."There you go."

Rock smiled. "Here you go. Tell your friends."

JC ran back over to the bathroom, hoping to catch the druggie before he killed himself. He came back in, just as the bum fingered the detonator.

Whoa," JC yelled."I've got your zyme. Make it last. Now, the lam."

"Oh yes, yes. yes......"The man handed over the lam and began to take short sip's of the liquid. His eye's bulged with every drink.

JC walked over to the north side of the track's and tossed the lam, it went through the weckage and detonated as JC back away to a safe distance. He poked his head back over, and saw that the way was cleared. He went on in, and after ten second's of navigation, he opened the valve and walked back out, hearing water running through pipe's now. Charlie came back over to him.

"The water line's should be open now." JC told him.

Charlie smiled, "Good, glad to see you UNATCO boys do something for the community."

"Now can you tell me about the NSF?" JC asked.

"The NSF.....yeah, they took over the tunnel's." Charlie said.

"How do I get there?" JC pressed.

"Go to the woman's rest room on the other side of the station," the bum directed."Look for a keypad under a sink. The code's 5482."

"Great. Glad I could help out." JC said.

Several minutes later, JC found himself in a large cavern, crawling litterally with people--and NSF. He decided on a stealth aproach in this situation. He crawled under some gangplanks and a small boy spyed him. The boy ran over to him eagerly. JC frowned as he approached. The boy smiled and spoke in a low quiet voice. "I've got a secret."

JC closed his eye's and silently wished for the boy to go away."I give up."

"It's about the NSF commander. About how he get's inside his room!" the kid cried gleefully.

Now that was intresting."Yeah?"

"He does something with the brick's behind the box's at the far end of the tunnel. It's true! I saw it." the child said.

"Hey, thank's." JC said.

The kid, obviously pleased with himself, ran off, probably to tell more people.

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Fox Willis sighed unhappily. He was an accountant, but he had had the nerve to speak out against the government, and found himself here. An NSF commander, stuck in this shit-hole. He was supposed to make sure no one got through the tunnel's. Namely JC Denton. They had intelligence that he was well on his way. He clenched his teeth. He really hoped he did'nt have to fight. He put on the TV, which was still depicting the clean up of Liberty Island, obviously the high light of the day for everyone. They were saying stuff like "It was a useless gesture." or "a futile attack on freedom.". He sighed again, and flopped down on his couch, to try and get some shut-eye when the secret door to his room opened. Probably one of his many private's.

"Yeah?" he said tiredly.

He shut his eye's, and barely had any time to react when a gun was pressed into his right temple. "Uhh...I surrender." he breathed.

A low hoarse voice addressed him."Tell me about the Ambrosia shipment."

Oh no. He'd be betraying everyone if he told. Then again, he would of liked to be able to sleep with his wife for one more night over betraying the NSF. "I'll cooperate. Relax. The key to the bathroom is one the table."

"Restroom?" The man said incredulously,"I'm looking for an airfield."

"You need to go through the restroom to some tunnel's. The airfield's about a mile east." Fox told him.

"....This better not be a joke." the voice said.

"Hey, I'm just an accountant, I know the bodyarmour look's threatening, but I'm part-time, like a reservist. I don't want any trouble."

He finally looked as the gun retracted, and he saw a tall-easily 6-foot.-man wearing sunglasses, who backed into the table, took the key, and left, keeping the gun trained on him the whole time. Fox sighed once again, and got onto the open channel's to tell everyone that JC Denton was coming.

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JC went past 12 NSF private's, who told him that they had orders to surrender. Fine by him. The mole people gave him strange look's as he went past them, then went back to whatever it was that they regularly did. He made it to the bathroom and unlocked the door. Upon going in, he immeadiatly saw that large material's had been moved through this room, with a hole in the wall leading to some tunnel's to prove it. He walked through, and almost instantly came face to face with a group of three terrorist's. They did'nt waste any time. They pulled out their pistol's and began to send a tempest of bullet's at him. He rolled into the cover of the nearest wall, and hastily returned fire. One of them collapsed, with a bullet in the neck. The other two saw their comrade's demise, and began to run, while calling for reinforcement's.

JC gave chase, and soon came across another group of six terrorist's, accompanied by the two who rad ran earlier. Two of them were armed with assault rifle's and began to fire stream's of bullet's at JC, while he jumped behind some maitenance pump's. He hid low, as bullet's sailed over head, soon stoping. One of the terrorist's called out. "Surrender now, you know you can't win!" JC looked to his right and saw a valve there. Upon looking back at his adversaries, he saw an active pipe next to them which looked ready to burst. He turned the valve several time's, and listened as the pipe next to the terrorist's exploded, and water shot out in all direction's, sending the terrorist's to the ground. JC shut the pipe off with another few twist's off the valve, and the water current ceased. He got back up, and ran past the limp water drenched form's of the rebel's.

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Paul Denton watched Juan Ivanovich Lebedev twist the gear's out of his nearby clock, and reassembled them. He waited very patiently as Lebedev did this, waiting to give him his report. Young came inside, and whispered urgently into Paul's ear. Paul nodded and he cleared his throat loudly. Lebedev stopped, and spoke in a quiet voice. "Has the plane finished refueling?"

"Not yet sir. It'll take at least twenty more minute's. I just got a call from Willis. He say's that JC is in the tunnel's, and is coming this way. We've already lost contact with a few patrol's down there." Paul told him grimly.

Lebedev frowned, and once again took out all the clock gear's."Terrible thing's. You and your brother. But you and I both know that you, unlike the mech's, have heart. And understand the importance of our mission. You understood it. I'm hoping your brother will understand it as well."

"He will. I can feel it." Paul said.

"If we get out of here before he come's, contact him after we arrive in Hong Kong. If he get's here before that.....You will talk to him."Juan told him

"Understood."

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JC came out of the underground tunnel's, and into a maintenance station. He looked over a datacube-which contained the login and password to a computer- and walked slowly out. He came to a set of double door's. Alex came over on the info-link.

"This is the terminal at LaGuardia owned by Juan Ivanovich Lebedev. We're certain based on what we've seen that he's working with the rebel's. Your order's are to locate and kill him. We're sending you a map of the airfield now."

Juan Lebedev was a small time business owner back in 2048, since then, he became more and more reclusive from his business and it eventually just shut down. He had recently bought this terminal with the money he'd made, and it now seemed clear that he'd been working with the NSF, and had brought this terminal for the sole reason of shiping the Ambrosia. JC looked through the transperant door's and saw one of the barrel's of Ambrosia lying in the middle of what looked like a reception area, deeper inside, he could hear the droning of helicopter blade's. He walked in, and came over to examine the barrel. His infolink came to life again.

"Look's like you're on the right track, this is one of the barrel's of Ambrosia. We'll be sending a team to recover it shortly, along with Agent Navarre, who will accompany you once we've found Lebedev."

JC walked into the helicopter hanger, and came in just as two nearby chopper's took off.

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Anna Navarre. Gunther Hermann. Anna AND Gunther. Anna Navarre sat in cramped troop-compartment of a black helicopter, which was flying at top speed to LaGuardia. Their order's were to raid a hanger where they had determined the location of Lebedev's 747 airplane. They were running on a timer, as they had little time before the jet finished it's refueling, and was off to Hong Kong. She was hoping she'd find Lebedev before JC did, she had her worrie's that he might actually spare the little rat. But, none of this was on her mind now, she was thinking about a conversation she and Gunther Hermann had had before she and her strike force had left. It had started off as small talk. Talking about one of Gunther's new favorite subject's, which was conspiraing against the maintenance men. He had a whole elaborate plan set against them, and it was all very foolish, but she listened anyway. The conversation had then turned to the recent event's surronding Paul's dissaperance. Gunther personally thought he had just lost his cool, and had ran away for the day. Anna however was more suspicous, and thought he might of joined the terrorist's. They then moved on to talking about the new Agent Denton.

Gunther personally liked him, and was annoyed that Anna was'nt as open armed as he was. Anna had then said that he could not blame her, considering his "family" history. Then, it got intresting. Gunther had suddenly said that he was tired of playing game's with her, and was about to tell her something when she'd been called to the helicopter. She had a distinct feeling she knew what it was. He was in love with her. Anna could'nt be sure of how she would of reacted if he'd told her. Happiness? To think that someone as cold as her could ever love someone? Even a fellow agent? It would certainly be a weird relationship, them both being mech's and all. A rumor had been going around the building that she was in love with Agent Denton. But the same thing had been said when the senior Agent Denton had joined up, so she payed no heed to them. Would she and Gunther leave UNATCO and begin their own life? She felt so confused. Then, her thought's were brutally interrupted when a missle streaked past the chopper'. The pilot grimaced, and the ship pivoted to it's side to avoid another projectile.

"Alright boy's and girl's, buckle up. I'm showing two enemy helicopter's. Probably trying to buy their little master some time, get ready for some evasive manueveurs." the pilot anounced.

Anna Navarre looked out the starboard window and saw a teal helicopter fly off to the right, and came around for another pass, it's chain gun coughing bullet's. The black helicopter's advanced starboard thruster's propelled it away from the oncoming hail of shell's. The other helicopter dived and came up sharply beneath the black helicopter in an attempt to strike it's belly, and the black helicopter dived as well to meet it. Anna braced herself, and fingered a nearby emergency ejection port. The pilot let out a whoop as he released two missle's, both of them criss-crossed and hit the enemy chopper from two side's. The helicopter burst into flame's, and it's wreakage fell toward the airfield below.

"Okay, that's one down, one to go." the pilot said.

The black helicopter hovered briefly in the air for a moment, then turned around to face the other enemy. The opposing chopper' stopped, and hovered 100 feet away from the black helicopter.

"Your move...",the pilot whispered.

The enemy helicopter jetted foward, turned to the right, and began to fly off to the side. The pilot sighed and gave chase, letting his chain gun's rip the air around the fleeing chopper'. The enemy airfcraft's pilot let the chase drag on for 45 second's before suddenly turning 360 degree's, and fired off two missle's, straight at the black helicopter. The helicopter jetted backward, and one of the missle's missed, but the other one collided with the chopper'.

"Damnit!" the pilot yelled. He checked the damage. Lost the left engine tube, along with a missle port. The helicopter listed on it's side. Observing this, the enemy helicopter zoomed in for the kill, unleashing it's chain gun. The windsheild to the black helicopter gave out, and the pilot recieved twenty high caliber round's to the chest. Anna cursed, and went up to the pilot's chair, and threw the body back into the transport compartment. The body settled in near one of the privates. He vomitted. Anna seized the control's and steered the helicopter out of the way of another missle attack. She veered to the right, and turned the chopper' around. She let the missle targetting reticule settle on the enemy target, and fired a missle. The missle smacked into the nose of the enemy helicopter, causing the aircraft to explode violently. She breathed a sigh of relief. The private's stared at her in awe. She returned a rather venomous look at them and she flew the black helicopter over to the airfield.

---------------------------------------------------------------

JC finished up useing a multi-tool on the door that would lead him into Lebedev's hanger. There, he would complete his final objective, and hopefully get some sleep for the night. He walked through, and immeadiatly got a transmission on his infolink. It was his brother.

"You can relax JC, I've ordered the troopers to stand down."

Paul paused to let his word's sink in.

"That's right......I'm working with the NSF. I'll meet you by the 747."

It occured to JC that he would'nt be getting any sleep in quite awhile. Impossible, Paul, a terrorist. He felt slightly dizzy, as if the air had been knocked out of him. He somehow got through the door, and snapped out of it. His sense of confusion had been replaced with rage. The second that bastard showed his face he would cap his ass. He came out of the door, and emerged into a long hanger, a 747 airplane sat in the middle, he could hear the hissing of tube's feeding oil into the plane. He looked over to a ramp leading to the entrance to the plane. Paul stood there, speaking to a mechanic, and held up an assault shotgun threateningly. The mechanic nodded his head, and went to go work on the underside of the plane. Paul then looked up to the catwalk where JC stood. They stared at each other for a full minute before Paul ran over to JC.

"Excellent work, I underestimated your abilities." Paul said, almost resignedly.

"You work for the NSF?" JC could not think of anything else to say.

Paul sighed. "Just listen to what I have to say. We don't have much time."

JC laughed nastily, "You got that right. UNATCO will have a team here in a few minutes."

Paul's next word's hit JC in a way no bullet or rocket ever could. "The Gray Death is a man-made virus." He stared at JC for a few seconds, "Everyone up to President Mead is at UNATCO's mercy, as long as they control the supply of Ambrosia."

JC stared at him, then said tonelessly, "You believe that?"

Paul's eye's trailed over to the 747, "We have proof. We need to get the Ambrosia to Hong Kong. Heard of Tracer Tong? He can help us synthesize it ouselves"

Tracer Tong. If JC remembered correctly, he was one of the big Triad leaders in Hong Kong, known well for his amazing intellect.

He pointed his pistol at Paul. "You better step away from the jet, your boss is my next objective."

"Join us JC." Paul said almost gently."Talk to Lebedev. He can convince you."

Join the NSF. Impossible, he'd been waiting for the moment he'd join the UN all his life, and in on his first day his own brother was telling him to join the very people he'd been commited to fighting. He stood there, flabergasted. Paul looked back and sighed."Get on the plane, we're almost ready to go."

Maybe he could make Paul see where he'd made his mistake. "Blackmail of the US government could not possibly escape the notice of the United Nations."

Paul frowned at him. "Don't be so quick to trust the UN."

"Are you kidding?" JC spat. "The UN's the only chance we've got these days. If the US spirals into another Civil War-"

Paul cut him off, "A pretext, nothing more. The whole project of world government-- going back to the League of Nations-- has been funded and manipulated by wealthy bankers."

"Is that so?" JC said dryly.

"Remember the UN itself was built on land donated by John D. Rockefeller- Get on board!" he suddenly yelled. "A UNATCO security squad will be here in a few minutes."

With that, Paul turned around and ran over to a grouping of terrorists. JC looked up to the 747, and walked up into the plane.

---------------------------------------------------------------------

Juan Lebedev sat on his bed, his heart pounding in his chest. Waiting. Although he alway's kept a straight face for his troop's, he constantly felt anxious. Especially now. What if JC did'nt join up? They'd be losing a great potential ally if he did. A transmission went up to his room. It was Decker Parkes.

"Juan, we could'nt stop the black helicopter and we've lost contact with the two chopper's we sent out. I don't think we're gonna make it."

"We'll make it Decker. But just in case, get the back up chopper ready to leave." Juan said.

"Yes, sir."

He sighed and continued staring off into space. Ten seconds later, he heard footstep's approaching his room. He held his breath. His life might be ending in a short few seconds. JC Denton walked into the room. Their eye's meet. Juan decided to speak first, as JC's hand went to his pistol.

"I surrender!" he cried.

JC stopped, and looked up. "What?"

He gave him one of his disarming smiles."Easy now agent. UNATCO has a policy against killing unarmed prisoners. We have much to learn from each other."

JC took a step toward him, he whiped out his pistol and pressed it against Lebedev's forehead."We're assuming control of the airfield. The vaccine will be returned to international authorities.", he clicked the safety off.

Juan gently pushed the gun away. JC was so suprised he did'nt even put it back. "Don't you want to hear why your brother switched sides?" he asked.

JC scowled and pressed the gun back into his forehead harder."He make's his own decision's."

More footstep's, someone else was approaching. "You know he would'nt betray UNATCO without a reason."

A female mech stepped into the room. If Juan remembered correctly, she was Anna Navarre. UNATCO's most ruthless agent. JC looked over to her and pressed the gun harder into Juan's forehead. Anna smiled coldly, "Good work, now finish the job."

JC shook his head at her. "He surrendered. He's an unarmed prisoner, UNATCO policy protect's him"

"Terminate the prisoner Agent Denton.........."She looked at Juan. "If you are too afraid, you are ordered to return to base on Manderleys authority. There is a helicopter waiting."

She unholstered a silenced assault rifle that was slung on her back. "This man will recieve a speedy trial."

JC ignored her warning's, and turned to Juan. Perhaps there was hope for him after all. "If you know something, just tell me."

Juan looked over to Anna, and smiled. She seemed to be counting in her head. It suddenly occured to Juan that either way, he was about to die. Might as well make the most of it. "The question you've got to ask--I'm suprised you have'nt.-- is the obvious one. Who am I? Who made me? And for what purpose?"

JC frowned. "UNATCO has briefed me on my augmentation's."

"Your parent's were murdered precisely because they could have answered that question." Juan said.

JC's frown only deepened."Tha'ts a pretty big claim."

Juan went in for the kill. "You did'nt have parent's. The one's you knew were employee's. You were made by a cabal of technophile's, so crazed for power that they would not only control our government's, but the very chemistry of our bodies as well."

Anna stopped counting and spoke again, "Return to base Agent Denton. I WILL handle this."

JC looked back to Anna, then back to Lebedev. "Sound's like a picture perfect description of the NSF."

"Think bigger Agent. Think global."

Anna was obviously getting impatient. "You've disobeyed a direct order!"

Juan shot her a venomous gaze. She did'nt seem fazed. He turned back to JC. "Do you think it's an accident that the cure to the global plauge is owned by a _single_ corporation, and that it's kept so secret that only the tabloid's dare print a story suggesting it exist's?" he asked.

JC's grip on the weapon faltered. _He's getting reeled in...._Juan thought.

JC looked back at Anna, she made a cutting gesture. JC turned back to Juan. "The supply is limited. That doesnt mean there's a conspiracy."

_He's mine._ Juan thought. His next statement would bring him in. "But where did the corporation manufacture the cure, and where did your brother uncover the information that brought him over to our side?" Juan asked quietly.

JC stared at him for at least ten second's. He let the pistol fall to his side. "Go on."

Anna was aghast.

Juan smiled. "I can tell by the expression on your friend's face that she know's where I'm heading. UNATCO is completely correct to think that Tracer Tong will soon understand Ambrosia. He was the one who was going to recieve this shipment."

"Why tell me all this?" JC asked.

"I've said nothing that UNATCO wont find on this plane's computer. But here's the secret. This is what Paul was so intrested to hear from Tracer Tong, UNATCO is not-"

He did'nt finish his sentence. For Anna Navarre clicked the safty off of her assault rifle. She kicked JC away, and turned to Juan.

"Manderley will be dissapointed in your insubordination." she said to JC.

_No!_ Juan thought. He began to run, but he knew it was of no use. Anna began to fire, and an armor piercing round blew a hollow point in his skull. His last thought's were of the people of the world, and he sincerely hoped they could be saved.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

JC watched in horror as a bullet flew through Juan's head. Blood spattered the wall he was next to, and his body slumped.

Anna reloaded her gun, and attached a small blunt bayonett to it. She rammed it into JC's side. JC yelled out in pain. The metallic agent was steaming.

"That is what happen's to a prisoner who tries to escape!" she bellowed. "Go to the helicopter Agent Denton: It is waiting at the airfield."

She turned and examined the body. JC did'nt even protest. He felt like he was about to vomit. He left the 747 to find dozen's of UNATCO trooper's milling about, looking for clue's, or just conversing. For some reason, JC knew he would never look at them the same way ever again.

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Paul, Decker, Erin,Young and a plethora of other NSF made a mad dash for the only remaining helicopter left as UNATCO trooper's closed in at all direction's. Bullet's filled the air, some from the fleeing NSF private's, but most came from the blood thristy UN "peacekeeper's."

Paul knew the jig was up. Manderley and Simon's probably knew as well. It had all ended when Paul had transmitted that one infolink to JC. He was now considered a terrorist.

He did'nt risk a glance behind him, he kept his eyes fixed firmly on the helicopter in the distance. Decker and the other's were lagging behind, but kept a steady pace as the NSF number's dwindled.

_How could this have happened?_ Paul thought. He knew Juan was dead. He'd lost transmission as JC approached. He only hoped that JC had'nt done the deed.

Paul activated his speed augmentation and ran with all his might. He leaped into the helicopter, and watched as Decker and the other's pilled in. Paul turned to the pilot.

"Wait for ten more second's....then go."

The pilot nodded, and started up the chopper. Decker pulled out his sniper rifle and began to pick off UNATCO oppressor's. Several more private's jumped into and helicopter, and time ran out. The helicopter rose up, and began to fly.

The private's left behind stood watching the aircraft pull away, and were promptly apprehended by UNATCO troop's.

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	5. UNATCO HQ and Hell's Kitchen Part 1

Deus Ex: The Conspiracy

Chapter 5:UNATCO H.Q. and Hell's Kitchen Part One.

JC Denton felt numb inside as Jock's helicopter flew into Liberty Island air space. This was'nt flight sickness, it was the feeling of betrayal, conspiracy, and hidden agenda's.

"Requesting landing on main helipad, over." Jock said into his mic.

"Premission granted, over."

"Roger, over and out."

Paul. A traitor to the Coalition. It boggled JC's mind. Paul was the Coalition's main asset. The number one agent, the academy's star pupil. And now JC himself was an agent, because he wanted to be more like Paul.

And then there was what Lebedev had said, before Anna had murdered him. A conspiracy behind UNATCO. The Gray Death.....a virus that was not contracted but _manufactured._ It was impossible to believe that after all this.....the NSF were supposed to be _freedom fighter's?_ It was, after all the Coalition had done, possible to believe that an outside power was pulling the string's? Impossible. JC would not believe it.

Then again, had he not disobeyed order's and spared Lebedev(for the remaining moment's of his life, granted.) to hear what he had to say? He terribly intrested to hear if weather or not someone else was really running the show. But what he was most intrested in above all else was....his creation? He could not _be_ a creation. He was born to two scientist's named Clarissa and Robert. His biological brother was born eleven year's before him. When he was 22, he followed his brother into the augmentation program after two years in the army. _That_ was the story of JC Denton. Not him being ...created in a test tube. He was human. Human.

He loathed Anna for killing Lebedev in cold blood. He deserved life in jail for crimes against his country, but not death. Something else was going on there. UNATCO somehow NEEDED him to be silenced. What better way then to make their new agent do it? It was killing two bird's with one stone.

JC frowned to himself. Was he honestly starting to believe in what Lebedev had told him? He could'nt. His future depended on it.

The chopper landed, and Jock gestured for JC to get out.

"Where's the fire?" JC asked.

"Oh, I, ah, got a little favor I need to do for someone, I'll probably return when you get breifed." Jock answered quickly.

JC frowned once more. "Alright."

JC jumped out, and the helicopter instaneously rose into the air, and flew off into the fading darkness.

-----------------------------------------------------

Joseph Manderley was quite litteraly steaming with anger. Ten year's as UNATCO's head director, and now everything had gone to shit. Paul had been their top agent for seven year's, never faultering in his duty, and always acting with stead-fast loyalty toward the Coalition. He was the U.N.'s golden child, their beacon of shining glory, the very personification of American ambition.

_And now......he's_ _a_ _terrorist_. Manderley thought darkly with spite. _Why did this happen? HOW did this happen?_

He knew he would never forget the moment he had been listening to JC's infolink database, and had heard those shameful word's escape Paul's mouth: "I'm working for the NSF". He had calmly left the communication's room while dozen's of trooper's and Alex stood by, flabergasted. He had returned to his sound proof office, and screamed. Loudly.

And just when it could'nt get ANY worse, it did. JC disobeyed direct order's, and had not killed Juan Lebedev on sight. It was a full seven minutes of conversation between him, JC, and Anna before Anna shot him dead. She had given JC two times to re-deem himself, and both time's he had ignored her. Now _she _was Manderley's kind of agent.

Needless to say, JC was gonna have a talking to.

Manderley's phone rang, and he picked it up, with a sick feeling he knew who was on the other line before the person in question began to speak. His voice was as it alway's was. Calm, business

"I've activated the Primary unit's Kill-Switch. Needless to say, there was no choice in the matter. This is for the best, Director, really."

"Yes, yes I know. I fully agree with your decision." Manderley stammered.

"Good. Your job depend's on that."

---------------------------------------------------

The NSF helicopter landed on the roof of the Ton' as Paul, Decker, Erin, and Young piled out. The helicopter's pilot saluted them, and it rose off into the air. Erin's check's were red with crying.

"We were so close.....so close." she said quietly.

Young more-or-less shared the same feeling. "The NSF is done. We lost more then three hundred and fifty men tonight." he said.

Decker and Paul remained quiet, both too caught up in their own thought's to particpate in the mournful conversation.

"I think they need some time alone." Decker whispered.

Paul nodded and they both went down a nearby service ladder, and into Paul's apartment. Paul went into his room and closed the door. Decker looked around nervously and went to see if there were any coffee beans around. He checked for awhile and found them laying on the upper shelf's of the kitchen area. There were also ton's of soy food. They reminded Decker of military ration's. He went over to a nearby coffee machine and dumped the beans out, and activated the machine. There was some crackled inside, and a sound of liquid, and a cup of coffee was eventually produced. He took it gladly, and began to down it, indifferent to scalding sensation in his mouth.

Paul came into the kitchen wearing a black t-shirt and casual jeans. Decker gave him an inquisitive look.

"It'll have to do, I've at least gotta have SOME sort of disguise." Paul said while looking at the ground.

"Pretty crappy disguise." Decker said, grinning.

"I'm not in the mood, today was'nt the best of night's. Alot of good people died."

"I know." Decker said quietly.

"We gotta start thinking of-" Paul began, before he doubled over in pain.

"What's going on Paul?!" Decker cried out.

"I- can't......feel my leg's." He collapsed, writhing in pain.

Decker looked around franticly and spoted a chair at the corner of the room. He seized Paul--who was extremely heavy--and hauled him over to it, and ploped him on it. He sat there and held his stomach.

"Call Jock." Paul croaked.

-------------------------------------------------------

JC walked nervously into Janice Reed's office. She looked terribly depressed.

"I can't believe it JC, what got into Paul?" she said solemnly.

"He got the better offer I guess," JC said dryly."Is Mr. Manderley available?"

"Go right in JC, he's got alot to discuss." She turned back toward her computer and pulled up an email from someone called "WS". She looked back to JC and called to him just as he was heading for the door. "Incidentally, I have'nt been able to reach Jaime Reyes. If you happen to cross path's with him, can you mention that Walton Simons was looking for him? He's probably in the break room."

"I'll let him know." JC assured.

_So....it WAS Walton Simon's before. What's HE doing out here?_ JC thought

JC entered the UNATCO cheif's office and took a seat. Manderley was carefully stroking his hair line with a handkerchief, he looked positively furious. JC waited at least a full minute before Manderley began to speak.

"All right Denton....what the HELL happened there?" he said fitfully, "You were under direct orders-- MY ORDERS!"

JC simply shruged. "He seemed worth interrogating." They both knew who "he" was.

"We don't give information to make a call like THAT!" Manderley yelled.

_Ok bastard. I'm game._ "I guess this means I DON'T get the op bonus this time?" JC said with a spat.

Manderley looked postively red in the face. "You cant turn in your weapon's right now if you're going to be a smart ass."

JC felt like pursuing this just to make Manderley pissed off. "I risked my life, and recovered the Ambrosia," he said in mock seriousness."I deserve compensation."

Manderley fell onto his chair with a sigh, as the chair turned slightly to his touch. He fished around his own wallet and smacked a credit chit on the desk. "We don't have time for trifles. Take it." JC reached for it when Manderley out his hand back on it. "But it will be the last one." he let go, and JC transfered the chit to his account. "Clearly monetary incentives don't work with you and your brother. Christ JC, this kind of behaviour, not to mention Paul's defection, is making several powerful people very nervous. Nervous about him, and nervous about YOU. You do understand the importance of loyalty don't you JC?"

"Yes, but-" JC began.

"Well that seems to be missing in you and your brother. Brace yourself for an ugly lesson, JC. The Coaltion has shut down Pauls augmentation's, and activated the Kill Switch."

JC was flabergasted at this term. "Activated....what?"

"He's gone, JC. He's a terrorist now, just like the ones that have died by your very hand tonight." Manderley said.

"Can they really kill him, with one press of a button?" JC asked fearfully.

"Yes....and you too. Their sending you to Hong Kong now."

"What about Paul, will I ever see him again?" JC asked.

"Get out. I'm through with you. Your will need to kill a man called Tracer Tong, Pauls main contact in Hong Kong....Prove that they can trust you. JC-"

"Yes." JC said, looking down.

"It's critical that they trust you."

----------------------------------------------------------------------

The lone woman was bathed in a seemingly infinite amount of darkness. She admired it, allowed it to envelope her, encompass her. Darkness flowed from her, she carried it with her like a package wherever she went. She loved the darkness.....she WAS darkness.

More to the point, she was an assassin. Her codename was V, for Vixen. Not her idea, but it seemed to fit her fine enough. She was UNATCO's newest agent, and had found herself in a sticky situation already.

"Say your prayer's."

The first mercenary came from behind, armed with night vision goggle's that would allow even him to penetrate the darkness she carried. No matter. V turned calmly toward him as he unholstered his stealth pistol and aimed it at her head. She had cleared the area of the bullet's path before it even left the barrel. The mercenary seemed taken aback, and quickly scanned the area to see where she had gone. Nowhere in sight.

He began to panic, and he took out his silenced assault rifle and began to spray bullet's everywhere. He heard his comrades call out to make him stop shooting. He suddenly heard grunting coming from behind him. Two mercenaries were being menaced by some unknown force. One of them sprayed bullet's everywhere as someone contineously stabed him in non-leathal area's. He collapsed as his head twirled off in a bloody fashon. The second merc's eyes widdened, and be began to run away, but to no avail, a throwing knife pierced his skull from behind.

The other's began to spontaneously panic, they ran everywhere as a violent and guttural chirping filled all their sense's. They sobbed as they were cut down in brutal fashion's. Their necks snapped, their limb's hacked away bloodily, their entrails cut away from them in a flash. Only the one mercenary from before dared to stay where he was, as he watched his comrades killed one by one. He waited until he was alone. Alone with the unhuman assassin, and a dozen bodies. His head was promptly snaped back. Through his blood filled eye's, he could see the assassin. Staring at him as he died.

V stood where she was and panted heavily. Her surronding's suddenly dissapeared before her, revealing the virtual simulation room she currently stood in, at UNATCO H.Q. She had passed the melee simulation.

"Bravo V, bravo! I see you've been training extensivly since our last session." said a voice from the intercom.

"I do my best Dr. Clark." she said.

"Well it has certainly shown my girl, it has certainly shown. At this rate you'll be a full fledged agent in a matter of day's. I'll be sure to bring up the matter with Mr. Page." Dr. Clark applauded.

"I appreciate it. If you don't mind, I'm gonna go get some fresh air. See you soon." V said, and left the training room. She went out into the hall way where scientist's and black uniformed guards went to and fro, all busy on their own task's to take notice of her. She left the MJ-12 facility and put her face to a retinal scanner.

_Christ, they get more paranoid everyday, now they got a retinal scanner on the _exit. She thought. She supposed they'd have to be, it was'nt exactly street knowledge that UNATCO was simply a front. She said hi to several wounded privates and left the medical wing of the UNATCO section of the bunker.

She was about to go up to Sub Level two before running into a large man who was at least six feet tall, and wearing a trench coat. She smiled up at him.

"You must be Agent Denton, it's a pleasure to meet you." she said.

Denton looked down at her with a frown plastered on his face. He seemed deeply distressed about something, probably the fact that his bastard brother was gonna be dead within the next 48 hour's. He was one of the "new" nano-aug's, a form of mech/human that MJ-12 was considering to mass produce. She ,frankly, thought that the "D" genome would have to be scraped, in favor of the slightly older "S" genome. D was proving to be rather unstable, due to apparent moral issue's common in subjects, even though it showed to have higher combat abilities then S. Still, both genomes were obviously better then all the mech's running about.

V personally thought that augmentation's were redunant, nano machines did'nt make an agent, skill did. And if she was made into a full-fledged agent, she would be the first non augmented agent of UNATCO.

"Are you an intern?" JC asked.

_Watch your mouth, I could probably kick your augmented ass anyday. _"No, I'm not. I'm training to become an agent, like you."

"You don't....look augmented." JC said with a frown.

She smiled. "Neither do you, but I know you are."

"Every agent is augmented in some sort of way." JC said.

"If I'm recommended I'll be the first one without augmentation's." She said.

"Right, right.......We'll probably be seeing each other again."

"Yes. Yes we will."

----------------------------------------

After his conversation with the decidedly strange young woman, JC went to the rec room for a drink. He saw Jaime looking rather helpless as Walton Simons pressed him for information on some subject.

".............pain so intense I have trouble sleeping at night." Simons was saying.

"What kind of pain?" Jaime asked.

"A sharp burning behind the iris, almost electrical." Simons said, and instinctivly rubbed at his eye's.

"Hm, how's your bioelectric level?" Jaime questioned.

Simons looked almost offended by the question. "Alway's at one hundred percent. In my position you have to be prepared for anything."

Jaime smiled at him. Simons seemed annoyed by the gesture. "That's probably it right there. Free radical's. You should only charge your system's after they've been signifigantly drained."

Simon's looked at a nearby man in black. The MIB seemed discontented by this look and began to look around nervously while whistling.

"I was'nt informed of that."

"It's alot like an electric razor." Jaime said, and he took out a small cylinder and made a finger gesture, as if representing the amount of power the pretend razor had left."If you leave it plugged in all the time, the battery loses it's Zero Point. Just watch your level's, and get back to me in at least one week."

"Intresting......thank's doctor." Simons said, and snapped his fingers at the nearby MIB. The MIB backed away from the soda machine that he had already inserted a credit chit into and ran to catch up with Simons. Both of them left.

Jaime went over to the machine the MIB had been at a few second's prior and punched a button. A lemonlime soda poped out. JC heard him mumble something about wanting orange. He walked over to him. Jaime smiled and walked over to him.

"Guess you guy's found each other," JC said."Get everybody patched up?"

"You look a little beat, but I'm confident you know how to use a simple medkit. You obviously need sleep more than anything else." Jaime said.

"I'll survive."

"They just droped off the liter's of Ambrosia you recovered by the way."

Walton Simons was suddenly behind JC. He felt the hair's on his neck stand on end. He had'nt even heard him re-enter the room.

"Good work out there Denton. I want you to know, we will not let your brother's activities cast their ugly shadow on you." he said. It sounded almost rehearsed.

"Yes, sir." JC said half-heartedly. He turned to Jaime. "Will a few liter's be enough?

Jaime had a sip of his lemon lime and winced. "This is why I hate lemon....No one on the staff is going to catch the Grey Death this month."

Jaime went into the other room to watch something on the TV, leaving JC alone with Simons. The MIB from before returned to the machine and punched a button. Nothing came out. The MIB slackened and left. JC shifted uncomfortably as Simons stared at him.

"I saw you listening" Simons said in an almost accusing way. "I do indeed have augmentations like yourself."

"This might sound a bit personal, but are you a mech?" JC blurted suddenly.

Simons did'nt seem fazed by the question."Yes."

"You don't.....look like one."

"My augmentation's are slightly more updated then those of " Simons said.

"I see. You work down in Washington right?"

Simons seemed to smile. "Actually, I'm the Director of FEMA."

FEMA. They were a highly charitable organization that dealt with disater relief, economic trouble's in foreign nation's, but mostly domestic issues. Strange that they'd be so involved with terrorism.

"Sound's like you would'nt have much use for physical augmentation's." JC said.

Simons chuckled. "You underestimate the demands of my work. We deal with every natural and unnatural you can imagine."

JC felt confused. "You're the Director. You work behind a desk."

Simons took a step forward. He suddenly seemed that much more imposing to JC now. He wondered if he really should of pursued this in the first place.

"Am I behind a desk right now?" He said, biting on every word. "No, I'm not. That's because we have a situation here in New York. I got to my position because I can fix things. You will see shortly, because as you have probably noticed yourself this agency is broken and needs an overhaul."

_Can't say I really disagree._ JC thought. After tonight's event's, he was'nt feeling too patriotic about UNATCO.

Simons left the room along with the MIB. JC quickly walked out of the rec room and over to where Jaime was sitting. He was watching an extremely old classic called "Star Wars" He began to speak in a low confidential tone.

"Paul said UNATCO uses the Ambrosia to influence national government's. What do you think about that?"

Jaime sighed and stay silent for a minute. "So it's true. He went over to the NSF."

JC sat down with him. "I....spared his boss. He made some sense, really. Lebedev would of lived if Agent Navarre had'nt interfered."

Jaime seemed puzzled. "Made sense? Have you talked to Manderley yet?"

JC rolled his eyes behind his sunglasses. "He boxed my ear's, no big deal."

"I'm suprised he did'nt fire you on the spot. Or sent in a firing squad for that matter. Made some sense, eh? To tell you the truth, I've been having my doubt's about the Coalition. I'm pretty sure Alex is also having his doubt's. What do you think?"

"Given the actions I've seen tonight, I would'nt be suprised if I joined the NSF by the end of the evening."

--------------------------------------------------

Sam Carter felt terribly tired in the confines of the Armory. He was feeling alot of thing's, but mostly boredom. He'd already tried dismantling all the weapons in the room, and re-assembling them in a time span of twenty minutes, and repeating, but soon grew bored of even that.

He waited for half an hour before giving up on anyone else coming in for munition's. The action, for the most part, was over for tonight. He logged onto his computer and browsed a bit, checked his email, and generally did nothing. He remembered how busy he'd been during the Merced Op. He'd been a engineer at that time. Who would think he'd eventually be decorated for "Unwavering Bravery", "A True Patriot" and multiple Purple hearts. He often wondered what had gotten him into international security.

He had to admit he had his doubt's about JC Denton's ability to be an agent. He had skill's, no doubt there, and he was an excellent fighter, also good, but his attitude was all wrong. All evidenced from their discussion about Castle Clinton. But now that Paul was gone, maybe there'd finnaly be some room for change. Maybe there already was. He had spared Lebedev.

He knew he was gonna miss Paul. A damn good agent if he ever saw one..Right attitude, skill, and a fine marksman. He could'nt believe he'd been working with terrorist's the whole damn time, but he supposed everyone was an enigma in some way.

"You've got mail!"

Carter sighed and checked it. There was two new email's in the box. He checked the first one, it had came from a guy called "A la bruto" He gave out a long sigh and checked it.

y0, J4c0bs0n! 1 kn0w u g0t 411 d1s shit to d0 f0r intanational sacuraty, but u gott4 g3t b4ck on Net-Terror: Online again! 1'm g0nn4 serve u up a can of whupass with 4 5ide 0f plasma, along w1th a p3rf3ct d45h of-

Carter sighed and deleted the message. It was probably one of Alex's many internet friend's. He often wondered why they could'nt spell any damn thing right, or purposely the wrong way. He looked down to the other message.

The email did'nt have a return address, strange. He clicked it reluctantly after scanning it for potential virus's. A list of instruction's appeared. No salutation's, no formalities. The message read like this;

Several thing's of infinite importance will occur tonight. I require certain parameter's to be met before these event's take place. Only your colleague has complete access to UNATCO Sigint, and it is imperative that you do these thing's without question by the end of the hour. If you fail to comply, the ramification's will be severe.

1: I require you to lock the Armory. Let no trooper's have access to their muntition's until tommorow.

2: You are required to unlock every door in the UNATCO facility.

3: You are to disrupt UNATCO Sigint, only primary transmission's with the proper coding will be able to bypass this obstruction.

4: I require UNATCO secruity's database to be completely overridden.

5: UNATCO survelliance must be disrupted for tonight.

6: You are to transfer these objective's to your colleage Alex Jacboson. I have the understanding that he is the cheif programer of UNATCO's security, and has recently lost faith in the Coalition.

7: If anyone observe's and/or question's what you are doing, they are to be eliminated.

You will comply, or face severe consequence's.

Daedalus:GlobalNode:UNATCO/Global/8.13.52/Login

The message ended. Barely remembering to breath, he checked the time when the message was started, and sent. It was twenty second's. He got up, printed the message, and ran to Alex's office without a second's hesitation.

------------------------------------------------

JC walked out of UNATCO H.Q. ,after saying good bye to everyone, to see Jock's helicopter as it landed on the pad. He saw Jock in the cockpit. He seemed real anxious.

"Something wrong?" JC called.

"Get in the chopper! Pronto!" Jock yelled over the chopper blades.

The side door opened with a hiss and JC jumped in. He sure hoped they'd hit a hotel first in Hong Kong before doing anything. He was dead tired.

"I'm taking you to New York". Jock said, quite calmly.

JC stared for moment out the window; they were heading for Hell's Kitchen.

"My orders are to go to Hong Kong, did'nt you know?"

"Your brother's in trouble. You need to get to his apartment at the 'Ton."

_Paul!_ "Is he alright? Whats wrong?" JC asked quickly.

"I'll let him speak for himself. He just wanted me to get you to the hotel."

--------------------------------------------

The hotel room was deeply quiet as Paul told the group of former NSF commander's that his Kill Switch had been activated.

"A kill what?" Young asked.

"A UNATCO failsafe." Decker explained "It kills agent's within 48 hours of activation."

Paul coughed violently. Erin quickly jumped up, and volunteered to make coffee. All of them agreed.

"Well what are we gonna do then, Paul?" Young asked.

"We still need to get to Hong Kong, the U.N. has little influence there, and Tracer Tong can help us get rid of this thing." Paul said.

Decker frowned. "There's no way in hell we're getting on an international flight, our name's are probably displayed right now on every TV in the country."

A sudden knocking came on the door. Erin went over to answer. She looked through the small eye piece. It was Jojo Fine. A real bastard, but he belonged to the NSF."

"Hey, hey Erin girl. Jus' came to see how ya all doin'." Jojo said in his regular forced ghetto accent.

"We don't have time. What do you want?" Erin said as she let him in.

"Wel' it look's like UNATCO's abou' to do a raid on the hotel. I was figuring maybe you guy's can cover ma' ass as I down em'." Jojo said almost unconcernedly.

Erin's eye's widened. "UNATCO's about to do a raid?"

Jojo smiled, "Thas' what I say' no?"

Erin swore and she looked back at Paul. Jojo also peaked over and frowned.

"Fine fine, be tha' way." Jojo sighed."Pussies probly' won't go through with it anyway."

He walked away, heading for the stair's. Young cursed out loud.

"What an asshole."

Decker moved for his trench coat and put it on. "We don't have much time, we gotta head out before the shit hit's the fa-"

At that moment, JC Denton crawled into the room through the window Decker had left open.

Authors Note: As you can see, I've introduced a new character, perhaps the biggest liberty I'll take in novelizing Deus Ex. She's to become a major character soon. As alway's, please tell me what you guy's think.


	6. Hell's Kitchen Part 2

Deus Ex: The Conspiracy

Chapter Six: Hell's Kitchen Part 2

JC slowly crawled through the open window, and froze as he saw that he was being held at gun point by three NSF member's.

"You so much as breath and we'll" the one in the middle started.

"Let him in. He's my brother."

_Paul._ JC thought.

Without hesitation the NSF lowered their pistol's and backed away. The female went back into the kitchen, and started operating a coffee machine. JC cocked an eyebrow and rounded the room's corner. Paul was sitting on a small chair, holding his arms to his stomach, as if he had a cold. Not once in his life had JC ever seen Paul in such pain. Or let alone show pain.

"Is this killswitch real? What's it going to do to you" JC asked, as he took a look at the three NSF operatives.

Paul frowned"I'm afraid that's, eh, classified."

"Manderley said you're going to die." JC said quietly.

"You've got to have...God Clearance to...to know." Paul said. God Clearance was only cleared for people like Manderley. "The nanites can be programed for exponential growth, they grow too large, and then you...just go."

Amazing. The very computerized micro-organism's that were a pivotal part of he and Pauls augmentations could be easily turned against him."We've got to get you out of here. Jock'll pick us up on the roof, and take us to Hong Kong."

The female NSF member snorted. Paul shook his head at JC.

_I can't believe it, he's really gonna make this harder then it already is?_ JC thought.

"We can't leave, not yet. The UNATCO raid on the plane was the kiss of death to the NSF, but other groups still have a chance. The UN tracked Lebedev to the other bases around the country, and to Silhouette in France. I need you to get to the NSF warehouse, send a distress signal to everyone."

_Damnit!_

"I came to get you the hell out of here, I"

"UNATCO, Manderley, Simons, they all take payoff's. The other terrorist groups...they're our allies." Paul said firmly.

"...Okay. I need proof though." JC said.

"You'll find all the proof you need if you poke around hard enough down there, the warehouse is a few blocks to the east. You'll find your proof if you pay a visit to the basement, I'll have Decker go with you, he can disable the boobytraps down there."

One of the NSF operatives steped forward.

"I'll meet you at the warehouse whenever you're ready." he said.

Decker turned and ran out of the room. JC looked back at Paul hesitantly.

"No time for games, go"

-

Jojo Fine felt fine. Exactly as his name suggested. Of course, no one knew that his real name was Ramon Cadero. Ramon just sounded...pussy. Jojo Fine suited him just...fine. It had been a long trip for him from the slums of Puerto Rican Harlem to being the major druglord of Hell's Kitchen, but it had been a profitable one. One that involved many people's head's getting busted with crowbars and lot's...and _lots_ of sex.

He did'nt mind. He was finnaly getting ready to gather up all the money he had saved up/pilfered/stolen/taken-off-of-a-dead-body and he was gonna buy himself his own bar. Member's only of course, you had to be fancy in that sorta business. And rich types only, too.

He had joined the NSF to get the process done a bit quicker, got himself to a high rank too. But now the NSF were finished. He had been contemplating dissapearing, but figured he had might as well stick it out. And now the fuzz had surronded the hotel, with no one to give him some cover. He would of asked Johnny if he had'nt been killed out in the alley by Janey, who had finnaly decided to pack heat. His only option remaining was taking some hostages, and maybe demand some cash and a flight to Cuba. He knew just the people to use...

He went back into his room and got his crowbar and stealth pistol. Then he left and walked downstairs. It sounded like the two Renton's were arguing. He figured he'd just kill Renton and keep Sandra as a hostage. They both fell quiet as he approached, and he smiled.

"Hey Sandra babe, wha'cha just lying around for"

Sandra looked momentarily fearful, but then she simply rolled her eyes. "What"

"Can't 'cha see tha' UNATCO or whatever it's calle' decided to tuc' iself in for th' night. And aroun' my hotel, that ain't gonna happen. I'm afraid I need some services from you'. "

Gilbert stepped rather timidly in front of his daughter and made a gesture like pointing a gun at him. This amused Jojo.

"This is MY hotel seeing as how I'M paying for the mortgage around here, and that people pay ME to sleep HERE at MY hotel."

"So you think that this hotel is more important than me" Sandra snaped. And then they were at it again.

Then it was Jojo's turn to roll his eyes.

_How to do this...so many possibilties._ He figured he could just off them both and _pretend_ they were hostages. But he figured that those UNATCO compadres out there probably were'nt the dumbest people around, unlike the NYPD. Then there was offing Gilbert, but then risking Sandra's full cooperation. Take em' both? Maybe, but harder to manage. His head started to hurt. He hated that, and it made him considerably mad.

"Enough outta you two! Look, I'm taking hostages weather you two like it or not" he said, his fake accent disapearing in his rage. He raised his pistol and started waving it around. "Now who's it gonna be"

He felt a gun press into the back of his skull.

_Shit. Damn those guys are quiet!_

"Perhaps's I'll use the same pharse I used on your henchman. You've got ten seconds to beat it before you're just another NSF body."

_Aw crap, it's Pauls little brother._

"Well, as you can see Mr. UNATCO sir. I've got my gun on THEIR heads. Let's see who has the faster finger eh"

Silence. _Heh, he's scared._

"Well, I'd like to avoid a firefight if that's what you want, but why don't we change the rules around..."

With that, a gun came flying out of seemingly nowhere (though he knew it had come from Denton.) and landed in Gilbert's shaky hands. He stammered a bit, then got control over himself, and raised the pistol at Jojo. He had been so angry at the turn of events that he'd forgotten to shoot, and now was at the lower rung of the totem pole.

"How- How did you" He babbled mindlessly.

Gilbert was postivly pale as he held the weapon.

"Get out of my hotel." he said through shaking teeth.

"I'd comply with the man, if I were you." the cold voice said behind him.

"Yeah...I...better go."

Sandra sighed and went over to the nearby reception table. She unlocked a drawer on the bottom, and produced the key to the room where those two zyme addicts had lived.

"There's a window out there that you can use to escape. I don't think UNATCO will bother to check there. And I swear, if you EVER show up in Hell's Kitchen again, I'll get JC over here to find you and kill you." she said, and handed him the key.

"Y-yeah. Outta...Hell's Kitchen..."Jojo said, sagging. He turned (Denton kept pace.) and ran out of the room, wishing he'd had girls like that when he'd been growing up. He would never know that Gilbert Renton had never turned off the safty of Denton's pistol.

-

JC watched Jojo leave, and turned back to the two Renton's. He layed his hand out and Gilbert quickly thrusted the weapon into his hands. JC frowned and turned the safty off, then on. Meanwhile then two Renton's hugged, in what must of been the first time in years.

"I can't believe you actually were gonna shoot him." Sandra said.

"I can't let anyone treat you like that Sandra."

"I think you'll both be happier without that guy around." JC said, holstering the pistol.

"Maybe you stick here at the hotel now" Gilbert asked hopefully.

"I don't know, MAYBE" Sandra said with a smile.

"I just want to know that you're safe." he said, and returned the smile.

"Sorry, I've gotta go." JC said, remembering his real mission.

"Thanks for your help Mr. Denton."

"Yeah, come back soon, JC." Sandra said.

It was one of those times where JC wished to god that he was'nt limited to a neutral exppresion, and frowning. He simply waved, and left the hotel.

Two minutes later, he was in the alley way's of the district, alone, as he folowed the map Paul had transmitted him. This gave him time to think as he passed by brooding homeless people, and hooker's who shot him smoldering gazes. Was he really going to _betray_ UNATCO? The organization he had strieved to be apart of for all those years of training, and now on his first night of the job, he was being asked to assist terrorist's. But...when it really came right down to it...what was he for? Was he a creation made to serve his puppet master's, whomever they might be, or was he really the latest Secret Agent of UNATCO, saving the world one step at a time? He felt terribly confused. While he knew his job depended on thinking rationally, he could'nt get over the fact that Lebedev and Paul had made a point. And he had a sick feeling that the evidence in the NSF warehouse was probably not only real, but terrifying.

-

Tech Sargeant Kaplan looked over the shoulder of Lieutenant Lewis as he sat at a computer terminal with a microphone attached to it. It did'nt look broken, but Lewis was sitting at it anyway, tinkering and playing with button's Kaplan knew he should'nt be playing with.

"Well what's the problem, sir" Kaplan asked.

Lewis shot him a look. "What do you think you knuckle head? I can't contact H.Q. Something seem's to be wrong with UNATCO Sigint..."

"Well, the brass did'nt make me a tech sargeant for nothing, let me take a look at it, sir." Kaplan said.

Lewis sighed and stepped away. Kaplan sat down and looked back up.

"Did you try a priority access transmission, sir" he asked as he went to work.

Lewis lit up a cigarette and offered him one. Kaplan waved it away. "Not while I'm working, the insides of these thing's are highly combustible."

Lewis quickly took it back"Oh, well...I knew that."

Kaplan worked on the computer for five minutes while Lewis looking over his shoulder constantly. He hated that. He pretended to work from that point on until Lewis's attention was drawn to something else. Kaplan smiled and tinkered at a small switch for a minute until it gave way. The computer sputtered, and came to life. He checked the generator life and frowned. It was already draining.

-

JC weaved his way past the alley's leading up to the warehouse district, and found Decker waiting for him right outside the NSF H.Q.

"I want you to know that I don't trust you." JC said almost immediatly.

"And you're a UNATCO punk? The feeling is mutual." Decker said, with a smile.

JC cringed. "Let's get going. Will the troop's recognize you"

"I'm not on any wanted list's, and I ditched the uniform." Decker said.

JC and Decker made their way past several barricades before being halted by a soldier.

"Agent Denton...and..."

"Crime scene specialist, Robert Harris." JC said. Decker kept a neutral expression.

"Right, we've been waiting on you. Go right on through." the troop said, and ushered Decker along. He turned back to JC. "And you"

"I'm his escort, order's from above." JC said, and impatiently tapped his foot.

"No one else besides crime scene unit personal are allowed through, by order of Walton Simons." the beady eyed troop said.

"He sent me, why else do you think I came with Mr. Harris over there" JC sighed.

The troop processed this for a moment before hitting himself in the forehead. "Right, right, sorry sir."

"Carry on Private."

JC went past and looked around for Decker. He was'nt in sight.

"Damn it." JC said.

JC's infolink buzzed on. Decker's voice filled his head. "Hey Mr. UNATCO, nice going there. They've taken me along to review NSF files. Care to get me outta this? In case you were wondering, Paul gave me your frequency."

"What level" JC said, the nano-machine's in his head brodcasting the message.

"Level 4."

"Right, I'm on my way." JC said. He felt the neuron's relax, signaling that Decker had stoped brodcasting.

JC entered the warehouse and took a breif look around. UNATCO soldier's were milling about. He recognized Tech Sargeant Kaplan at the far end of the building. The trooper gave him a friendly wave and returned to his work. Another trooper ran up to him. His name tag read "Lieutanant Lewis".

"Agent Denton, what's your business here"

"I'm escorting Mr. Harris to where he's needed." JC said.

"But, did'nt he just come through" Lewis asked, eyes narrowing.

"Walton Simon's ordered me to keep him in sight for the entire time he's here."

"Well...ok, right. Go on."

JC sighed. _These grunt's get dumber by the day._

He went up three flight's of stairs until he came to a set of office's. He looked into the first one to see two UNATCO talking politic's. He went on to the next room.

_Shit._

Decker was being held up by a UNATCO trooper. Another one stood in the room trying to get the first one to calm down.

"I'm telling you I saw this sonofabitch at the airport" the first one roared.

"That's impossible, look, there's Agent Denton, he can clear it up." He turned to JC"This guy is Robert Harris right? Our crime scene investigator"

"Look's like him since last I checked." JC said nonchalently.

The first grunt kept the gun focused. "You're both playing me! I'm telling you I saw him at the airport, running with all the other NSF scum"

Decker kept a straight face as he started to talk"I don't know what you're talking about, if you'd please let me get on with my work" he was shoved hard by the trooper.

"HEY" the second troop yelled.

JC lost his patience completely. He took out his riot prod and stunned the trooper. He was speaking at the time, most likely insulting the other troop, but it all came out as sensless babble when he was prodded. He slumped to the floor, convulsing.

"Incapacitating allied personal is against UNATCO policy Agent Denton" the remaining grunt said, flabergasted. "I'm sorry but, you're under arrest now."

JC simply raised his eye brow's, and stunned the other troop. He joined his comrade on the floor.

Decker stared at the two jittery form's. "Their gonna report you when they wake up."

"To hell with them, I'm confident in what Paul said. I'm ready to join you, but I need concrete evidence." JC said.

"Nice." Decker said with a smile. He turned to the computer. "I can't access the file's from this terminal. But I can provide you the login and password for the communication's computer upstair's. There are two, one for dish arrangement, the other is for brodcasting signal's. They both have the same login, different password's. I'll transmit them to you when you get up there. And about the evidence, it's downstairs in the basement, surronded by booby trap's, but I can disable them for a period of two minute's. I've just opened the basement door, it's outside. You should also hurry, cause there seem's to be problem's with UNATCO sigint, and it'll be out in ten minutes."

JC nodded and ran out of the room.

-

The large surveliance screen was shakey, but it transmitted a reliable image fairly enough. The man watching it wore a two piece white suit, very expensive and made from the finest silk. But he was'nt concerned with his current attire, he could've given a damn if he was naked at the time.

He watching the world through his latest project's eye's. He saw everything he saw, thanks to the nano-machine's in his head. They made remarkable surveilance device's. And with those machine's, he had just witnessed yet another fifty-six billion dollar's go to waste, again. He silently stroked his red hair in his unspoken rage. In just one hour, JC Denton had gone from UNATCO's most promising agent, to one of it's newest worst enemie's. When you got right down to it, the family trait's were still there, regardless of whether or not he and Paul were actually _related_ to their parent's.

He tore his eye's away from the screen as his voice phone rang. He raised his arm to a small microphone attached to his ear and spoke.

"Hello"

"Simons here, I assume you're watching the same thing I am"

"Rather clever with the crime scene specialist part." he said in his trademark sarcastic manner.

"Speaking of which, that very person just arrived at the building."

He looked back onto the screen to see that Denton was reading the datacube with the incriminating evidence against UNATCO on it. "Shit."

"Hm"

"There's no saving him now."

"I see that...I'll let you do the honor."

The phone died, and the man approached a small file cabinet, a quaint location for the object he was taking out. He unlocked it with a key only he had. Then, he produced a small button unit. It did'nt even have a plug. He pressed into it, held it, and released.

-

It was as if all the UNATCO trooper's had turned in their uniform's and doned satanic robe's. After reading the datacube, it was like the world had shifted, ever so slightly, but enough to make one take a whole new prespective on how the world used to work. JC sat at the computer terminal after telling Decker that he'd been convinced. He'd transmitted the login's to the sattelite dish terminal, and the rest was up to JC.

Deep down he knew that they were watching. The Puppet Master's. They would see his betrayal and they would try to make him pay for ever considering to break the Coalition's oath. He did'nt care. He would kill all the men in this building if he had to. He stared at the computer screen for a breif moment. With a tapping of the keyboard, his life would change, he would have a new mission, and a new purpose. Even the password seemed to figure into it all.

Login: NAPOLEON

Password:REVOLUTION.

There were several option's. He twisted the dish's around for the purpose of transmitting a more broad signal. At that moment, Decker sent him the distress signal layout. He had one more minute to transmit. He pressed enter. And once again, the world was changed.

-

"The infiltration is going well, I know you have'nt heard from me in a few week's. Is everything going well on the other side"

"Better then expected, the data you've sent us is proving useful. As well as that new model of Yamaguci Therm-Optic schematic."

"Alway's a pleasure. I'll continue to send you data on this end, sir."

"Of course...you're positive that no one else has access to this conversation"

"Would I lie"

"You've always been a shrewd one. The Age of Light approaches us. My only regret is that Beth is'nt here to see it."

The line went dead.

-

Author's Note: Mysterious no? Well, hoped you enjoyed that one, I expect the story will accelerate as I go on. As always please read and review.


	7. The 'Ton Hotel

Deus Ex: The Conspiracy

Chapter Seven: The 'Ton Hotel

"Errr, sir?"

Lewis looked up from the computer screen that Kaplan had finished working on.

_Interuption's, interuptions!_

"What is it soldier?" Lewis asked the young private.

"Well, remember when that crime scene investigator got here with Agent Denton?" he said as he came through a nearby doorway. Someone else appeared to be with him.

Lewis rolled his eye's. "He's upstair's as we speak, now what is it?"

A man in a peach trenchcoat stepped in. The private regarded him with a hand gesture. "He's right here, sir."

Lewis's jaw dropped. "T-then who was that before!...What's your name?"

The investigator frowned. "Robert Harris."

Lewis was about to order a search of the upstair's when Kaplan called him over to the computer. "You've got a priority one message from Walton Simons, sir."

Lewis smiled cordialy at the investigator and rushed over to Kaplan. A holo image of Walton Simons appeared on the screen.

"Yes, sir?" Lewis said, snaping to attention.

"We've received intel that two intruder's have entered your building Leuitenant."

"Yes sir, I was about to dispatch a team to aprehend them-"

"Agent Denton junior is involved. Kill him." Simons said, quite calmly.

"Sir?" Lewis babbled.

"You heard me clearly. Kill Denton. He should be on the top floor, we have reason to believe he's working for the NSF, and has been for month's, perhap's year's. Need I say anymore? Deal with the other intruder as you see fit, but make sure Denton is dead. Over and out." The holo image disapeared.

Kaplan instantly went for his assault gun, gritting his teeth. "Never liked those two bastard's in the first place, knew they were both traitor's the first time I set eye's on em'." Kaplan growled. He was alway's the warmonger. Lewis did'nt know whether or not he actually wanted to see him die because he was a traitor, or because it would give him an excuse to kill.

_He would make a good mech; Heartless, like all the rest of them._

"Alright people!" Lewis said into a nearby speaker microphone. "There are two intruder's in the building. Kill anyone who's not wearing a UNATCO uniform!...Or a peach trenchcoat." he added quickly, looking at the real investigator, who was already taking out a pistol.

Lewis grabed his assault gun, and rushed up the nearby staircase with his comrade's.

-

JC Denton frowned as the PA announcement went out. His infolink also came to life, three people all at once. Walton Simons' voice came first, his signal probably overidded the other's.

"Denton...what an expensive mistake you turned out to be. I've order the troops to kill you, because frankly, I don't have the paitence for that damn killswitch to work!"

JC sagged. He should of known, but it was still a frightening prospect. They'd activated his killswitch. He and Paul were in the same boat now.

Decker came in. "JC? I can use some help here, UNATCO punk's all around! Paul'll talk to you when you help me out."

JC activated his speed augmentation and blitzed down the stairwell until he was faced by three trooper's. He suddenly felt relaxed, which he knew was a mistake. The trooper's also hesitated; an even bigger mistake. JC bolted into them, the steep incline of the stair's causing them to trip over themselve's and fall. JC unholstered his pistol. He smacked them all in the head with the but of his weapon, and continued on.

He came up to Decker a few moment's later, holding off a group of UNATCO trooper's, Kaplan and Lewis among them. Kaplan noticed JC and diverted his fire. JC dived into cover as the bullet's obliterated the ground where he once stood. Kaplan snarled and rushed his position with untold fury.

_Alway's wanted to be the hero, well now it's gonna cost you your life._ JC thought.

He came back out of cover and rasied his pistol at Kaplan. Kaplan gaped as his hand's gropped for the trigger on his assault rifle. JC fired. The bullet smashed through the trooper's head, carrying much of the content's in his skull with it. JC felt nothing. He was in action mode. He relocated his aim to another trooper's head and fired again. The trooper collapsed lifelessly.

The remaining offender's picked JC as their new target and fired. JC activated ballistic protection. The bullet's were absorbed by his newly supercompressed skin, and the shell's fell to the ground. Decker picked up an assault rifle off one of the fallen troop's and fired into the midst of the offender's, taking out five trooper's. Lewis screamed for them to fall back. JC held his fire as the remaining trooper's scrambled to put as much distance between them and JC as possible.

"Well they certainly taught you how to fight did'nt they?" Decker remarked.

JC reloaded his pistol. "No time to relax. They'll be waiting for us downstair's."

Decker peaked out a window and chuckled. "Not likely, they're making a run for it." The squeel of tire's on gravel followed shortly thereafter.

"The less the better, c'mon."

Both of them exited the building and were back in the outskirt's of the warehouse district ten minutes later, outside of the Ton' hotel. Paul's voice came over the infolink.

"I've been in touch with Jock, and he's telling me that there are at least two sqaud's of UNATCO trooper's heading our way via helicopter, hurry up."

JC informed Decker of the situation, and gave him a boost onto the ladder. JC activated his speed augmentation and followed shortly. They scaled the fire escape and crawled through the window to Paul's apartment. JC frowned as two black van's pulled up on the street, depositing their UNATCO cargo. Three men in black followed them closely. He shut the window as an MIB entered the back alley. He turned back to the other's and saw Erin and Young aiming their pistol's at the door. Decker helped Paul out of his chair.

"We stirred up the hive," JC said. "It's going to be difficult getting you out of here."

Paul stared at the ground, "You'd better leave me behind. I've served my purpose to the resistance, and I'll only slow you down."

JC shook his head. "Nonsense, we're not leaving anyone behind."

Paul looked at him darkly, "You'll regret this. Leave me and escape."

A sudden bashing at the window. The glass spider webbed, and JC vaguely saw an MIB outside. He drew back his unharmed hand for another punch. JC raised his pistol and fired. The bullet shattered the glass as the MIB let loose his punch, and touched nothing but air. The surprised MIB fell foward into the room, and Decker let go of Paul and shoved him outside. The MIB fell backward and into the rusted railing. The railing groaned and collapsed, sending the MIB spiraling to the ground.

Decker peaked outside, and saw the MIB get back up. Decker swore and fired with his assault gun. The MIB smiled sinisterly as the shot's did little to his biomechanically enhanced skin. He raised a magnum pistol and fired. Decker threw himself back as the shell's tore through the ceiling above him.

The MIB crouched momentarily and jumped up back onto the fire escape. Decker's assault gun chattered loudly as round after round smacked into the MIB. He showed little sign's of faultering. Young and Erin turned around and fired above Decker at the MIB. With abnormal speed the MIB charged the two of them and smacked Young into the wall. He groaned and collapsed. Erin rolled away as the MIB flailed at her. JC ran up behind the MIB and was promptly smacked away from him.

_Are they mech's!_ JC thought.

Paul raised his magnum pistol and fired. The shell tore through the MIB's head, creating a fist sized hole in it. Blood and purple substance's splattered the wall in front of the MIB as he collapsed to the ground, very much dead.

Decker sighed in relief from his corner of the room and collapsed to the floor. Erin went over to Young and helped him up.

Paul sighed and reloaded his magnum. JC got up and went over to the door. He heard multiple footstep's coming up the stair's.

Erin swore, "Just like them not to give us any breathing room."

"Who was that?" JC asked.

"Agent Grant, he was keen on strength enhancement's. I'm just glad he did'nt have a skull gun." Paul said.

Erin turned to Paul, "There are more of them coming up, what do we do?"

Paul looked up at JC, "Got any LAM's?"

JC went into his coat and produced a storage unit for carrying explosive's. Four LAM's rested inside. Erin took Young over to the corner of the room. JC took out a LAM and let his finger rest on the arming button. All of the occupant's held their weapon's at the door.

"JC and Paul Denton, Decker Parkes, Young Allen, and Erin O'Reily, we know you are in there."

Erin snorted.

"Put down your weapon's, and step into the hall way."

Silence. JC pressed down the activation trigger on the LAM, and held it there.

"Open up!"

The door smashed open and two flashbang grenade's entered the room. At the same moment, JC tossed the LAM. All three explosive's detonated. A bright light overcame JC's vision accompanied with a loud bang, followed by a buzzing noise. He barely registed that the LAM had went off. He held his breath. No gunshot's. His vision slowly returned. The LAM had torn away much of the wall around the now non-existant door, and had violently tossed the bodie's of several UNATCO trooper's around the hallway, and had obliterated two MIB's. A helmet of a UNATCO trooper still contained a bloody head.

JC looked over to Decker. Decker nodded. The two of them dashed out into the hallway. Other then bloodstained wall's, nothing waited for them. JC motioned for the rest of them to come out. Erin put her arm around Paul and helped him out, with Young in tow. JC exited the hall, and looked into the hotel foyer. No one in sight, not even the Renton's. JC turned back to the rest of them.

"I think we're clear for the hotel, not sure about the street." he whispered.

JC motioned for Decker to follow him again. They both went down the stair's, gun's drawn. A quick look around the room confirmed what JC had said. The group moved to the entrance of the hotel. JC looked through the door and swore. Anna Navarre and Gunther Hermann stood outside. The duo noticed him through the window. Both of them went for their assault gun's.

"Back into the foyer, NOW!" JC cried as bullet's tore through the wood of the door's.The group moved back as the door's collapsed.

-

Anna put down her gun as the door collapsed. She and Gunther moved forward to the entrance.

"Wait, Anna." Gunther said.

Anna stopped, and looked at him curiously. He alway's refered to her as "Agent Navarre".

"Yes?" she said, not taking her eye's off of the broken doorway for a second. She knew it right from the start. The Denton's could not be trusted, and it amazed her that they had displayed all of her worst dream's of betrayal all into one night. The biggest shame of all was that she had actually trusted the younger one.

Gunther hesitated. He opened his mouth to speak, then snapped it shut.

"Agent Hermann, spit it out."

"Well, they ARE...theoretically more advanced then us. Don't you think that this should require a bit more planning?"

_What the hell is he talking about? This behaviour is not like him at all..._"Plan? You and that word do not mix."

"I value my life, Anna...and I value yours." Gunther said, and smiled timidly.

"Gunther...if you have grown a fondness of me that goes beyond pure partnership, just say it." Anna said.

"I believe you have said it perfectly." Gunther said, and stared at the ground.

"Good. We can talk about this later. We have two traitor's to kill. Since you DID mention planning I will go in first in cloak. I'll signal to you when you can come in guns blazing."

Gunther smiled at her, and she returned the favor. It must of been the first time she'd ever smiled in year's. He nodded. She activated her cloak, and went on in.

-

JC held his weapon at ready. He knew Paul would be a liabilty in this fight in his condition, and he was doubtful about his own ability to go against two mech's. Especially if the mech's in question were serious when they said that they both had over five hundred kill's. He looked over to Paul. He was being craddled by Erin, and had his magnum trained on the entrance, with shaky aim. JC looked to the right to see Decker and Young crouched. Decker held onto his assault gun like a lifeline. Something at the entrance caught JC's attention. A slight shimmering. As soon as he had noticed it, the effect was gone. JC struggled to determine what it had been. The answer dawned on him as quickly as the question had arised.

_A cloak. Shit, a cloak,_ he thought.

He looked around for the shimmering wildly, only to come up with nothing. He knew that in a few second's one of them would die. JC stood up with agile swiftness. He jumped off the stair's and into the foyer as the rest of the group gapped at him. From the corner of the room an assault rifle began to fire. The cloak shimmered and revealed Anna Navarre. At that moment Gunther Hermann carrened into the room and fired up at the resistance member's. Young gasped as a round entered his shoulder, shattering the bone inside. He began to scream from the pain. Erin instantaneously dropped Paul in her worry for her boyfriend and dashed over to him. Paul held himself up with one hand and fired wildly at Gunther. A magnum shell entered the mech's chest. Gunther looked down at the wound. Wire's and small patchs of blood protruded from the opening. He growled and took cover behind a pillar.

JC fired at Anna as she re-activated her cloak. The bullet's hit nothing that breathed. JC took out his assault gun and fired around the area where she had been. Blood splattered in one location. He continued to hit in that area. Anna appeared and collapsed to the ground, smeared in blood. Not caring if she was dead or not, he looked back to Gunther and fired. Gunther dashed behind another pillar, bullet's trailing him.

JC took out a gas grenade and tossed it. Upon detonation, cloud's of non-lethal gas snaked out of the torn open grenade casing. He was rewarding with a sobbing sound from Gunther. He fell to the ground rapidly wiping at his eyes and looking for his gun. JC motioned for the rest of the group to come along. Erin carried Young away, along with Decker cradleing Paul. JC ran out into the street and got inside the nearest UNATCO van. Both driver's got out, and were promptly rewarded with shot's to the head. JC gunned the motor as the rest of the resistance member's entered the van. The van speed off into the night.

-

The gas cloud finnaly disipated, and Gunther looked around quickly. They were gone. He swore in german, and noticed Anna Navarre on the floor. His red eye's widdened and he ran over to her.

"Agent Navarre? Wake up!"

No response. He swore again. It seemed like there was still life in her, but she would need some more persuading. He began to pound his hand's on her chest, which he shortly stopped. He knew well of his own power, and he doubted even she could take it. He took a moment to analyze her limp form. Blood coated her body. He wondered vaugely what she would do in a situation like this.

_She would leave me, to die on the cold hard ground and pursue her objective._

The thought depressed him. He frowned and checked her breathing. A sudden steady pulse.

_Of course! You're an idiot Gunther!_

Her regeneration component's whired to life. The protruding circut's folded themselves back into her body, a metallic coating covering up the wound. Bullet hole's resealed themselve's, and the blood that covered her body was cleansed. She coughed hoarsely. Her eye's flashed open, and focused on him.

"You...did you let them...get away?"

"Err, too many of them. You nearly died. I stayed behind to make sure you were alright." He cursed the word's as they left his mouth. He had seen this routine several time's before. With UNATCO private's. Those privates usually turned up missing. He knew she would'nt bring harm to him, but he knew from experiance that word's were now the only thing's that could ever hurt him anymore.

"You...did? How foolish...Thank you." she smiled at him. It surprised him. She leaned forward to meet his eye's.

And for the first time ever, since the begining of the mechanical augmentation project began, two mech's of the same composition, created to harbor no personal feeling's for comrades, and to only think for the mission...kissed.

-

"We've got company!" Decker cried.

_The last thing we need_ JC thought.

The black van from the hotel was hot on their tail. He looked through the side door mirror. An MIB stood behind the wheel, focusing only on their vehicle. The MIB was a perfect driver. He took turn's and sharp corner's with almost masterful grace. JC, of course, had a driver's license, but he had only earned it through the academy. Paul groaned in the back compartment, followed closely by Young, with Erin tending to his shattered shoulder. Decker sat in the front with JC. He was busy shouting out direction's, which JC followed closely. However he had little doubt that Decker was simply trying to lead the MIB in circle's rather then working out an actual escape route.

The MIB accelerated, smashing into the rear bumper of the van. The MIB focused closely on keeping this position until a sudden screeching filled JC's ear's. Decker swore loudly. "He locked the bumper's together!"

The MIB released his hold on the wheel. His van did'nt slow down. He kicked out the door to his side, sending it flying down the street, and into a glass storefront. The MIB planted his hand's outside of the vehicle and hoisted himself onto the top of the van. Decker swore again. The MIB crouched, and leapt onto the other van. JC's eye's shot up. A dent appeared in the top of the vehicle. The MIB began to pound down into the van. Decker aimed his assault rifle up and began to fire. The pounding instantly ceased, and was replaced with a heavy crawling along the top of the vehicle. Decker took a moment to replace his aim, and resumed fireing. Bullet's pierced the top of the vehicle. JC looked up and thought he could see the MIB's tuxedo flailing in the wind.

JC kept his eye's glued to the road. The road was gradually becoming brighter. The sun was rising in the distance. He barely noticed the MIB poke his head down at the windsheild. JC hit the brakes, sending the MIB crashing away from the car. He put the vehicle back into gear, and approached the limp form of the MIB. He saw the MIB's hand's make a fist before the vehicle ran him down. A sickening crunch followed. Erin looked back out.

"Oh...yeah, he's dead."

Paul got up and limped over to the front seat. "We should be clear for now...I can't believe we made it. Did you see the evidence we had on that weasel, Walton Simons?"

JC grimaced. "Yeah, I did. Strange though...when I sent the distress signal, he ordered the troop's to kill me. Why does FEMA have authority over UNATCO?"

Paul sighed in, "His authority doesn't come from FEMA at all. Juan Lebedev did some extensive researching into his background, and into Manderley's. They're both taking bribe's. I myself did some research, along with Ford Shick, and Smuggler. I have good reason to believe that he's working with a secret organization...Majestic Twelve."

That struck a cord with JC. His memories of earlier that night came flashing back to him. From what seemed like a long time ago. The black suited paramilitary soldier's. The one's with the insignia "MJ-12".

"We don't know much more than the name." Paul continued, "What we do know is that they plan to use the United Nations as a scheme to shut down the US government."

"If today was yesterday, I would think that what you just said was a load of bullshit." JC said. "If their so powerful, what chance do we have against them?"

"The most dangerous thing about them is that no one know's they exist. That's their weapon. We need to get to Hong Kong. Tracer Tong can-"

The car suddenly started to skid on the road. JC attempted to hit the brake's, but someone had disabled them. The car plunged into a storefront, sending JC's world into darkness.

-

The thermoptic camo ran dry of it's energy. She appeared outside of the storefront, smiling to no one other than herself. A nano-blade rested in her right hand. A simple slash to the tire's, and an explode on empact emp grenade were all it took to take down the van. She expected Agent Harris' death was unfourtanate, but in a way it helped her to reach her goal. A helicopter spot light lit up the area around her. She waved her hand, and pointed into the ruined store. The helicopter set down, and twelve MJ-12 trooper's piled out, and surronded the area. Agent Walter approached her, and looked into the store. He smiled at her.

"Excellent work, your dutie's will not go unnoticed."

"I expect that they would'nt." V said.

-

He felt...strange. But not a bad sort of strangeness...No, this was...peaceful. He felt relaxed here, this was a place he loved being at. There was no darkness where he was. Only light. He _did_ wish that they'd turn it down a bit. It was ruining his mood. His eye's focused. The light was gradually turned down, not artifically, his eye's simply adjusted a bit. He could see where he was. And now he knew why he had felt so strange. There was water all around him, but he did'nt mind too much. There were several people around him, staring up at him. They looked excited to see him, and were all wearing white. He focused in on their feature's.

A man with brown hair, and bright green eye's, and a rather slim physique. And a woman stood next to him, she had blue eye's, and the most beautiful blonde hair. They both looked happy.

Two other men stood with them, but not as close. One of them had red hair, along with bright red eye's. It looked almost unnatural. He too looked happy, but it was different from the other two's joy. It was greedy...sinister. He did'nt want to look at the bad man any more, so he focused on the other one. This one looked strange...it made him laugh. This one had blue vain's running all across his face, making him look like a monster. He was'nt smiling like the rest of them. He kept on shifting around in his scientist uniform, almost as if he was uncomfortable in it.

He took in his surronding's. A large room, with computer terminals everywhere. Scientist's were going to and fro, writing down note's, and typing at the computer's. But what intrested him most were the large tubes, filled with water. And people. Was he in a tank?

All this time, the people were talking amongst themselve's.

"...Showing good sign's of awareness of surrondings, and muscle structure is looking great. Bio-electric's show no sign of malfunctioning." the brown haired one said.

"So he's everything we've hoped for?" the one with the red eye's said.

The blonde one smiled, and looked up at him, "Yes. He is." she said, not taking her eye's off of him.

"Can he...understand what we're saying right now?" the monster questioned.

"I would'nt doubt it for a moment. Brain wavelength level's show good sign's of awareness." the brown haired one said, looking over to a small computer he had with him.

"All that's left is combat training, and he'll be ready." the one with the red eye's said.

"What about Pau- er, the Primary Unit?" the blonde one asked.

"Showing sign's of deteoration of duty parameter's, I'll give him six more month's to get his act together before I issue the termination." red eye's said.

"No! You can't-" the blonde one said, and stepped toward him before being restrained by the other one.

"Of course I can. You know it yourself. The Secondary Unit is superior to the Primary in every single circumstance. The Primary's continued existance will make thing's...difficult, to say the least."

"I can prove to you that he will be useful even when the Secondary Unit is brought on line!" she snapped.

"We'll see about that, Clarissa."

The monster and the one with the red eye's left the room. The two scientist's spoke with hushed voice's. After two minute's, the one with the brown hair left. Leaving him with the blonde one.

"Hello there." She put her hand's to the wall of the tube. "You have so much ahead of you. It will be hard...in the next few month's for you. Stay strong...do what you think is right...Eric..."

She turned around to leave. He watched her go, and silently willed her to come back. This was'nt fair. He did'nt want to be alone anymore. He wanted to cry, but no tear's would come.

_Am I capable of crying?_

The darkness returned.

Author's Note: Well, I hoped you enjoyed. New chapter will (hopefully) follow shortly.


	8. MJ12 Facility, Part One

Deus Ex: The Conspiracy

Chapter Eight: MJ-12 Facility, Part One

Disclaimer: I do not own Prey, by Micheal Crichton.

JC Denton woke up with a humongous head ache. He could'nt see anything, but he figured that he would have to give his eye's some time to focus. He tried to feel the top of his head, but found that his hand's were chained. He began to get a feel for where he was. He was lying down on a cot that was attached to the wall. His vision began to focus. He swore to himself.

Everything was too bright. He was'nt wearing any sunglasses. He was'nt even wearing anything at all. He looked down at his bare body. Scar's littered his body, mingleing with the biolelectrical wires that ran across it. He felt drunk, he needed a shower. Furthermore, every two minute's his body jolted with a small pain. The kill switch was taking it's toll. He was bound to the cot, completly incapable of movement. He looked into the mirror to look out, but all he saw was his naked body in the cell. As he looked out, the mirror changed, which did nothing but intensify his head ache. He was now looking outside of the cell. Someone was approaching. He felt a strange flash of fear.

Anna Navarre stepped into view. Still alive, and looking fine.

_Damnit._ JC thought.

She stared at him for a moment, analyzing his body. Even though he knew it was silly, he blushed.

"I came to watch you die." she spat.

JC coughed. "You're early. I figure I've got at least thirty two hour's left."

She laughed, "I was hoping the kill switch would have started."

JC coughed again. "It has."

"Good. It is good that you feel the pain. Like how you gave me pain." she said in barely a whisper.

"I thought you had copper wiring to re-route pain." JC snarled.

She stayed silent as she looked down at the ground.

"What have you done with Paul and the others?" JC asked.

She smirked. "Same as anything that malfunction's...Same as you."

She continued to make threatening remark's, but he did'nt listen. He was more concerned about Paul. After an hour, she gave up and stormed off, re-activating the mirror. He was alone again. JC sighed and looked up at the wall. He tried activating his augmentation's. No response. He starting to let out a string of curse's when his info-link buzzed in.

Static for a few second's, which was replaced by a voice that sounded almost robotic. "I need you to escape. You must leave this facility as soon as possible. I will now release your limb's."

The chain's retracted. JC instantly got up, and went for the door. He slammed into it a few time's.

"This behaviour puzzle's me. Cease this activity immeadiatly."

JC stoped. He listened intently as the voice began again.

"I will cut power to the door's now, but only for a few second's. Get ready."

JC waited. He did'nt have the time to question the voice in his head. The door opened slightly, but enough for him to crouch under it. He was back outside the cell. He waited for the voice again. It never came.

JC took time to anaylze where he was. He was in a prision area. Cell's surronded him on all side's. He looked through one of them to see a prisoner, playing around with a knife. He looked down the hall, and saw a black suited guard was typing on a computer terminal, a secuirty camera moniter lay next to him. He checked it periodicly. JC advanced slowly on the guard, and brought him into a neck lock. The guard struggled with him for a moment before stopping.

"Help! HELP!" the guard cried.

JC kneed him in the back. The guard yelped, and stopped yelling.

"Where am I?" JC asked him.

The guard stayed silent. JC kneed him again.

"Answer me!"

"Ow! Err..prison?"

JC smashed the guard into the wall. The guard collapsed to the ground. JC checked the guard, and found a pistol. He also found a data cube. He checked it, and found the master code to the cell block, and the code to the door leading to the rest of the facility. He went back to the cell where the other prisoner was, and unlocked the door. The prisoner looked up and ran out. He bumped into JC and grimaced.

"Erm..."

JC looked down at himself. "Oh come off it. Where are we?"

"Don't you know? We're at the ground floor of the UNATCO HQ." the prisoner said with a shrug.

"I've never been at this level.." JC said.

"I would'nt expect so, they keep this level secret. I don't know much more then that though. You're the spy they caught, right?"

JC looked back toward the security station. "I never worked for the NSF, but my brother did." He looked back at the prisoner. "Have you seen him?"

"You're definitely not the only prisoner, well, besides myself. I heard struggling down the hall."

"Then there's still hope.." JC said.

"Let's get outta here, I smuggled in a knife, and I can still fight.My name is Miguel, by the way." the prisoner said.

JC nodded. "JC Denton, come on."

"You're gonna look a little suspicous without anything to wear, why don't you put on that guy's uniform?" Miguel said, gesturing to the incapacitated guard.

"Not sure it'd fit, but I'll try it."

They striped the guard and dumped him inside a cell. JC was thoroughly surprised to see that the guards uniform fit him. The two of them left the prison block, and JC's infolink came back to life.

"I suggest you head toward the armory. You will find all of your equipment there, as well as your stealth suit. Transmitting the floor plan..."

JC mentally checked the map of the facility. The armory was east of his current position. They continued on in that direction.

"What exactly are we looking at?"

"I...don't know. They seem to be...breeding amongst themselve's."

"We never designed the nanites to reproduce by themselves. They die when we tell them to, they propagate when we tell them to, this doesn't make sense."

"Heh, remind's you of that old book huh..."

"Which one?"

"Prey."

"Ahh..."

Dr. Moreau stepped away from the microscope. They were looking into nanite culture cell's, taken from JC Denton. The problem was, they were now reproducing amongst themselves without being given order's to do so.

_Probably a result of Kill Switch activation, _he thought.

"Knowing Mr. Page's current mood, I would'nt doubt he'd be pleased to hear about this." Dr. Alice said.

The Kill Switch caused the nanite's to suddenly grow in size exponentaily, cloging blood streams, bronchial air path's, and stemming neuron flow. And if the nanite's suddenly started to reproduce while this was happening...it would kill the subject far more quickly. All together, it would certainly make Bob Page's day.

"Yes, but this mean's he'll think that we can't even control the very micro-cell's we've been creating for year's now." Dr. Moreau said.

"...Or we can just...not tell him about it at all." Dr. Alice suggested. "I mean, it's not THAT big of a deal is it?"

Agent Sherman came right behind her, and smiled down at her. Sometime's, Dr. Moreau really questioned her sanity.

"A new development in research eh,"Agent Sherman said with a care-free tone,"I think I'll inform Mr. Page right away."

He walked off. Dr. Alice slapped her forehead. "I swear, he's here just to make our live's miserable."

"They can still hear you." Dr. Moreau warned.

"Attention, all personal. Please enter the command center, or various research lab's. Communication with the prison block has ceased. All system's will be locked down in four minutes. Please do not panic. That is all."

"Shit." a nearby guard said. He quickly left the room. Agent Sherman got off the phone with Bob Page and activated a fail safe that would keep the transgenic's in their cage's.

"Oy vey." Dr. Moreau said. He peaked his head out the window. This had never happened before, and he knew that this occurence and JC Denton's aprehension earlier yesterday were no coincidence.

"Oh for the love of god, if one of the Greasel's got out again..." Dr. Alice said, then she started to ramble on about her precious Greasel's.

Five minute's passed by without incident, and Dr. Moreau started to relax a bit. He checked his email, and the Karkian life sign moniter's. All system's were working fine. Then, as he casually glanced at the vent in the floor behind his desk, he saw a man underneath the mesh wiring. It was JC Denton. His eye's widened. Denton gestured for him to come over.

_Oh great._ he thought.

He walked over to the vent, and made sure Agent Sherman was'nt watching.

"My goodness, Mr. Denton, did you escape?" he asked him.

"Hold on...are there any guard's up there?"

"Only Agent Sherman. He's one of the men with the eye's on the back of their neck's." Dr. Moreau said, casting a glance in his direction.

"Damn. Okay...can you sound the alarm?" Denton asked.

Dr. Moreau gaped, "And for what purpose!"

"To get that guy out of that room." Denton said.

"I will be shot." he said, gesturing to where he had been shot in the leg only three day's ago.

"Would you rather I shoot you?" Denton warned.

Dr. Moreau grumbled, and nodded his head. He carefully went over to the panic button, and looked over in Sherman's direction. He was typing furiously at his desk. He hit the button, and an alarm started blaring throughout the facility. He quickly unscrewed the panel open and set the coordinates for the outside of the prision block.

"Attention all security personal! Intruder detected in the prision block!" the PA announced.

Agent Sherman quickly got up and ran out, accompanied with several MJ-12 soldier's. Denton got out of the venting, and helped another prisoner out. He gave a thumb's up to Dr. Moreau.

"How long before they know it was a trick?" Denton asked.

"Long enough to release the transgenic's." Dr. Moreau said, a plan slowly forming in his head.

"Transgenics? You mean...mutant's, or something?" Denton asked.

"Indeed, Majestic Twelve has been working in many biotech area's in the past few year's, and already they have three perfected specie's of transgenic. The Greasel's are out there if you want to see them. My name is Saleau Moreau, by the way."

Denton looked out the window, and at the Greasel's. Dr. Moreau had seen them enough. Green, scally, and enough poison running around in their mucus to kill a large sized man.

"They look mean. What are you planing?"

"I want my freedom, Mr. Denton. These animal's are quite vicious, and I have no doubt that the security will find their hand's full in dealing with them. Long enough to slip out of the facility."

"Yeah? And what about the UNATCO level?"

"The security up there is in shamble's, like it has been all day, and yesterday. Getting out would not be difficult."

"Mmm...well, tell the rest of the science team personal before doing it."

"They're all in secure area's, only the security team would be affected."

Denton looked back out. He seemed to hear something. "They're coming back. Do it."

Dr. Moreau went over to his computer and went to his option's menu. He clicked for the transgenic cage deactivation, but not before locking the door's.

JC looked outside as the Greasel's came out of their cage's. An MJ-12 guard came into the room at the same time. He seemed stunned at the sudden release, but quickly went for his holstered assault gun. But he was too slow. A Greasel reared it's head back, and released a wad of spit at the guard. The poison quickly ate through the guard's skin, and rendered the guard's nervous system useless. All seven of the Greasel's quickly ran over to their new prey and began to eat the still breathing guard.

JC was stunned at the swiftness of the event's that transpired. "MJ-12...they've been creating bio-weapon's?"

"Indeed they have, Mr. Denton. I regret having to say that I was forced into taking part in their creation. The Greasel's are their newest project. Karkian's have been perfected, and they're still working out the numerous bug's in the Gray."

He looked back outside, and saw that the Greasel's had finished their meal, one of them was still snooping around for left over blood. however. The other's ran outside of the laboratory.

"My babies!" a female scientist screeched. She quickly went for the door.

"Are you crazy!" Dr. Moreau cried.

JC quickly grabed her, and brought her back to her desk.

"They're going to kill my creations! My babies! I have to stop them." she sobbed as JC struggled to keep her in her chair."Oh, you fool...how could you let them out!"

"I value my life more than these pathetic mutants." he snapped.

"They'll kill you for what you've done! You'll never escape!" JC sighed, and punched her in the face. She went out cold.

"Thank you," Dr Moreau said, patting his forehead with a handkerchief. "We must get out of here. I've been in this facility for eight month's now."

JC heard screaming outside. "That seem's like a pretty difficult task at the moment." A secretary went running past the lab, followed closely by a small four legged reptile like creature. "What the hell was that?" he asked.

"A karkian, in it's infant stage. They're damn hard to kill, from what I've seen in the combat simulation's."

"Let's go, we need to find Paul."

"Oh, I was just over where they're keeping him a few minute's ago, it's the medical area. I can lead you over there. Believe me, I share your fury over this killswitch idea. Let's get moving."

JC went out first, followed by Dr. Moreau, and Miguel taking the rear. They left the laboratory, and came to a left/right path.

"The left path lead's to the command center, you don't want to go there. The medical area, and the karkian cage's are to the right." Dr. Moreau told JC.

They went down the right path, and down a corner. Miguel suddenly threw up.

Blood stained the corridor, along with a plethora of mutilated bodie's. Two greasel's lay dead near the bodie's. They had killed each other, over a piece of entrail's that still lay in their mouth's. JC frowned, and looked inside the receptionist area. A dead MJ-12 trooper lay inside.

"I'm ok...my god." Miguel said. "Let's keep moving."

"You were certainly right about the diversion you promised." JC said to Dr. Moreau.

"I have no remorse, these people have done worse."

JC led the group onward toward the medical center, which was just a few hallway's down. At the half-way point, at a small set of stairs, a large four legged reptile shambled out to greet them.

"Jesus!" Miguel exclaimed. He began to fire with a newly found pistol as the adult karkian ran towards them. JC took out his assault gun and fired small burst's at the karkian. A shot caught the karkian in the eye, causing it to let out a screech of pain. It slowly stopped, and ran back the other way. JC motioned for them to wait, incase it would return. There was no sign of it, although they could hear it growling in the darkness.

JC motioned for them to stay put. He advanced slowly into the darkness with his assault rifle drawn. At that moment the karkian ran back out and carrened into JC. JC grunted and batted the reptile on the head with his assault rifle repeatedly. The karkian thrashed at him, sending him to the ground, and his assault rifle skidding. JC rolled as the karkian blew past him, and set it's sight's on the two other's. Dr Moreau yelped and ran back up the stair's. Miguel shot it in the head with his pistol, but the karkian seemed unaffected by the bullet's.

"Lead him back into his cage, there's a switch up here for the locking mechanism!" Dr. Moreau called out from the stair's.

Miguel ran back up the stair's, hunched his leg's and jumped over the karkian and rolled off the floor. He ran into the cage's. Puzzled by this, the karkian looked back at JC and let out a low growl. JC retrieved his assault rifle and strafed back into the room while firing the rifle at the karkian as it ploughed after them. Miguel shot it again, and ran back out, along with JC. Dr. Moreau slamed the lock button, leaving the karkian alone inside. It pawed uselessly at the door, growled loudly, and backed back up into a corner, not taking it's eye's off the door. Miguel sighed.

"When I dreamed of escaping this damned place I did'nt think it wold involve playing bait for two ton reptiles." he said dryly.

"I never thought I'd become a terrorist." JC huffed.

Dr Moreau came back down the stair's, and produced a keycard for the medical area, where they were all now gathered around. He led them on in.

Authors Note: I apologize for the shortness of the chapter, but if I don't submit anything within at least a two week period I start to get discouraged with the story...I'll try to get the next chapter out VERY shortly.


	9. MJ12 Facility, Part Two

Deus Ex: The Conspiracy

Authors Note: I do not own Resident Evil, the Samurai Edge, or Kendo's Gunshop.

Chapter Nine: MJ-12 Facility

**Instant Message Alert!**

Janice Reed frowned, and quickly set up her away message. She was busy writing an email to her buddy, Alice Rickman, and had no time for disturbances. She resumed typing.

**From: JReed**

**To:ARickman**

**Subject: What's going on about that concert?**

_I heard it got cancelled, and I just wanted to make sure, you know I would be bummed if it did (. They're my fav band! Anyway-_

**Instant Message Alert!**

"Oh fine." she muttered. She clicked on the highlighted words.

**JHall: **_Janice Reed? I need to be patched through to Manderley, there is a major security breach on Sub Level 4!_

**JHall: **_Janice? Please respond!_

"Oh my.." she said.

**JReed: **_I copy you loud and clear John, patching you through now._

**JHall:**_ Plz hurry._

* * *

Joseph Manderley doubted anyone else in the world knew just HOW shitty he felt. Two of UNATCO's greatest agents...gone. In the span of one single night. It was inconceivable. Unprobabable. But most frightening of all, unexpected. In the span of one night, JC Denton had gone from being a rookie, to an unstopable killing machine, exactly what was expected of him. How could he have fallen so far? The time it took him to defect made him infinitely more dangerous than Paul.

_They'll take you away, you know. Simons won't let this pass up. It'll be the perfect opportunity to take my place as mission commander. _He wouldn't let them. Never.

A small beeping from his computer. The intercom.

"Yes, Janice?" he sighed.

"You've got a message waiting for you from John Hall, Sub level four. It's urgent." Janice said.

"Yes, yes, patch him through." He turned to the computer screen.

**JHall:** _Manderley?_

**JManderley:**_ Yes, Hall. What's going on?_

**JHall: **_Major security breach, Denton is out, transgenics are loose! Twenty or more casaulties reported. We need back up, immeadiatly. O god, i canm hear them outside my office. agent sherman is being hacked up by karkians outside. im all alone here. plz send help_

_Oh shit. _Manderley thought.

**JManderley: **_Denton? Is he coming this way?_

**JHall:**_for the love of god send back up dammit, notw dammit their almost inside _

**JManderley: **_What aobut Denton, where is he!_

Manderley ignored the spelling mistake he'd made, it wasn't the time for corrections.

**JHall:** _i dont give a flying fuck about denton sned my fucking backup o god their almost in_

**JManderley: **_Just answer me real quick, I'll send your backup in a few minutes. Just tell me where the hell he is!_

There was a minutes pause. No response.

**JManderley:**_ Hall?_

Nothing.

_Oh...shit._ Manderley thought. His hand quickly moved for the public announcment button.

"Intiate lockdown immeadiatly."

This was proving up to be the worst night in his life.

* * *

Two MJ-12 soldiers were all that stood in their way as they entered the medical lab. The first one had opted to take a shot, and was promptly shot. The other one surrendered without a fight. The medical lab itself wasn't all that big, only a few scientist's and operating tables. Paul himself was standing to the side of the room while all the other scientists and nurses huddled to the side, afraid of getting in their way. JC was relieved to see that he was alright.

"There you are." JC said. He approached his brother and examined his body. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, at least from what he could see. "Have they done anything to you?"

"I'm like the Russian researcher who contracted his own virus." He said. He was refering to Korlov Omar, a Russian scientist who was a big player in the nano technological field. He concocted a nano virus that gave the user super enhanced abilities, but replaced said users skeletal structure with an exo-skeleton that vaguely resembled that of a cockroach's. Out of twenty test subjects, only four survived injection, and even then the subjects that lived died within ten days. But in that time, they acheived feats that no mechanically augmented agent was capable of. The survivors were called "The Omar." After the testing, Korlov was deemed a traitor by his government. He was schedualed to receive a formal execution, but he died a horrible death three hours before the execution. The autopsy reported that he had been infected with his own virus, under mysterious circumstances. All of this he had learned at the academy, on his augmentation course. "They want to study the way I die." Paul said.

JC laughed. "I hate to interfere with science, but we don't have much time to get you to Hong Kong."

"I've been in contact with Decker and the others since the transgenic outbreak, they'll help me escape. Decker will go with you. You go on ahead."

Miguel looked over, "I'll stay here with him, JC."

He looked over to Dr. Moreau. "Ah, yes. I'll go with him as well. We'll meet again in Hong Kong, Mr. Denton."

JC turned back to Paul. "Are you sure about this?"

"Positive. Just take care of yourself. Also, we can use all the help we could get, and alot of the guys on Level Three are on our side. See if you can do some convincing. Decker should be waiting on Level Three, with Jaime Reyes."

"Be careful, Paul. Anna Navarre was around the cell block."

"Ah, yes...Anna. There's something about her, and for that matter, all mech's. They have "kill" devices like we do, only theirs are instantaneous."

"Intresting, guess the mech's have us beat on one count." JC said.

"A killphrase, they call it. You'll find it on both Anna and Manderley's computers. Also, take my Desert Eagle, I don't think I'll be using it much anyway. It comes with an attachable silencer, but it's not compatible with the armor piercing rounds, so you'll have to switch to 10MM ammo if you want to be silent." he took out the magnum along with the silencer and handed it to JC. "The grunts never took it off of me."

"Yet they had enough time to strip me down completely, amazing." JC sighed. He attached the silencer and took a long look at the weapon. Polished to mirror sheen, and it's custom armor piercing rounds were to die for. It was Paul's favorite weapon, completely custom made. Paul was also building a pistol for JC, a three shooter, called the Samurai Edge. But now he probably wouldn't have the time for it now...

A scientist came over to JC.

"Err, about your augmentations, Mr. Denton..."

"I can't access them." JC told him.

"I know, I'm the one who disabled them for MJ-12, if you want, I can re-instate all the lost nanites with a needle insertion." the scientist offered.

_At least theres ONE good thing coming out of this situation. _"Absolutely, go ahead."

The scientist smiled feebly, retrieved the needle, and installed it into a nearby Medical Bot. The bot' treaded over and requested an area for insertion. JC removed his trench coat, revealing the bullet-proof vest and black jumpsuit within. The bot inserted the needle into his right arm. JC didn't even blink as the nanites slowly began to fill his body again.

He put his trench coat back on, and looked back up to Paul. "Be careful..Paul."

"Same, brother."

* * *

The lights went out in UNATCO headquarters again.

"Oh great," Corporal Collins said. "Not again."

Sergeant Micheal Berry smiled playfully at Collins. Not that he could see it anyway. "Don't be such a baby, are we afraid of the dark?"

He laughed again as the loud speaker came on.

"All personal are to remain in their offices until the security drill ends. Under no circumstances will you leave them. That is all."

"Did it get cold all of a sudden?" Collins said.

"Oy vey, Collins. Are you ever gonna grow a spine?" Berry sighed.

"Oh shut it-...Did you hear something?"

"My god, Collins! Are you gonna jump at every shadownot that you can see anythat comes up?"

"No, no. I heard something, really. I think someone left their office."

Berry stopped chuckling and perked his ears. Now that he mentioned it, it really did sound as if not just one, but several people were heading for the downstairs area..

* * *

_I can't believe he managed to get past all the security and unleash a transgenic outbreak._ V thought as she and her team came up to the Level Four enterance. All composed of Commandos, the insect-suit's with chain guns attached to their arms. They were called in after contact with the lower level areas had been lost. They weren't allowed to be spotted by any troopers, so a "light's out" drill was held in order to mantain a low profile. A pretty shitty set up, but it seemed like it had worked.

Casualties were expected to be high in the Level Four lab's, along with a boat load of transgenics, AND JC Denton. They passed Jaime Reyes office, thermal imaging showed that he was confined to the back of his room, talking with another person. Probably a trooper.

The team arrived at the retinal scanner outside Level Four. V held her eyes to the scanner, and several clicking noises errupted from the innards of the device. The nearby door slid open. She turned back to her seven man team.

"All dynamic, hostile presence expected to be high. Shoot anything that moves. You all have visual file on Denton, correct?"

All of them confirmed this. "Good, use extreme caution when dealing with Denton." That went without saying.

"Roger." the Commandos collectively said.

V nodded, and led the team inside. The reception area was clear, nothing except a few computer terminal's and several magazines. V switched off her thermal goggles and looked around. The Commandos did like-wise. They advanced down several hallways, ignoring the walls splattered with ichor. They came up to the enterance to the Command Center.

"Alright, let's split up." she gestured to three Commandos, "You three, with me. The rest of you search for survivors. We'll go after Denton."

"Roger." they all replyed.

The teams split up, V's going toward the medical lab, and the other heading for the armory and detention block. It wasn't long before they came upon a pair of adult karkians, feasting on security personal. The three commandos quickly moved in with their chain guns. Hundreds of armor piercing rounds slammed into the beasts, killing them both within ten seconds. A human would of been dead in two.

"Ha..these guy's aren't so tough." a commando snickered through he's mask. He playfully kicked at the nearest carcass.

_With their armanments? Childs play. They should of had Commandos on duty here._ V thought. "Recharge those barrels, you'll need the ammo for Denton."

The group continued down the hall, exterminating any transgenics in their path without fail, toward's the medical office. V finished putting a bullet into a greasel's head when one of the commandos suddenly perked his head up toward a wall. He examined it closely, before suddenly declaring "Picking up a thermal scan, it's human."

V quickly scanned the hallway they resided in, and found that it contained multiple maitenance alcoves. "Quick, in those crannies, double time it!"

The commandos took up positions inside the alcoves, and waited, eager to finally have a human target.

_Let's see if you can dodge this one, Denton._

* * *

The first indication that something was wrong was the more subtle one. The second was far more straightfoward. While JC traveled toward the Level Three enterance, the many roar's and baying's of the transgenics halted overtime, suggesting that they were being slowly killed off. At that realization, he started to take things alot slower, and more cautiously. He would roll out from corners with the Desert Eagle raised only to find that nothing inhabitated the corrdidor, except bodies of both transgenics and MJ-12 soldiers.

As he rounded another corrdidor, one that brought him considerably closer to the exit, the second indication hit him rather hard. Time seemed to slow to a snails pace as he saw that he was not the only human in this hall. And the other's certainly were not friendly. He recognized the agent from UNATCO among them, wearing a black jumpsuit with the roman numeral twelve emblazoned on the chest. The rest of the occupants were an even bigger surprise. They wore heavy black armor, and sported insect like gas masks on their heads. At each arm was a heavy duty mini rail gun, along with an underside rocket launcher. Each looked like they could hold their own against a squad of US soldiers.

Time came rushing back, and JC reacted instantly. He aimed at the closest commando with the Desert Eagle and poped a shot at his head. The bullet slamed into the visor of the commando, a shot that would have killed any other man, but the commando simply cocked his head in confusion, as if a fly had suddenly landed on his head.

_Crap._

The rail guns fired. At that same moment JC activated his speed augmentation and quickly dived away from the barrage of shrapnel and behind the next corner.

_Need another strategy, think fast!_ he thought as he ran down the corridor. He skidded to a halt and risked a look back in time to see the first commando round the corner. JC dived again to avoid another blast, and mentally checked his bio-electrics. They were already running low, his speed augmentation being the most taxing on his power levels. After checking his bio energy, he looked noted that he was at a three way divide in the hall's. He quickly dashed to the right hallway, and hid himself inside a small office at the end of the hall. A greasel was it's only occupant. JC grunted as the small reptile flung itself at him, and out the door. JC quickly shut the door, locked it, and pushed the nearby desk in front of it. He quickly removed the silencer from the Desert Eagle, and ejected the 10MM magazine. He quickly inserted a magazine with armor piercing rounds, and waited.

* * *

_Damn that was fast...jesus._ V thought as she followed the commandos. They quickly came up to a three way hall, a greasel waddling near by. A quick shot from her silenced submachine gun killed it.

"Check for thermals."

Silence for a few seconds. "Can't locate him, he must be out of thermal range." The thermal goggles weren't exactly reliable, and only picked up close range targets. Mainly within ten feet.

"Okay, fan out. You all take a seperate corridor and try all the doors along it, I'll stay here to support anyone who finds him."

The commandos all nodded, and took different halls, trying each door as they ran along, and reporting their findings out loud. Ten seconds passed, and the options were quickly narrowing down. Then, on the hallway to the right, a commando found him.

* * *

The door to the room creaked open a bit, and was stopped by the barricades JC had set up. The door quickly stopped. JC breathed in. The door crashed off it's hinges, revealing the commando behind it. JC raised the magnum, and fired a quick shot to the commandos chest. The round plowed through his skin, and whizzed by through the other side. The commando screamed in a voice that sounded very much mechanical in nature, like an appliance gone haywire. Without pause JC activated his microfibrial muscle and speed aug at the same moment and tackled the commando, the strength and speed sending the soldier into the opposite wall of the hall. The impact shattered much of the commandos re-inforced bones, and he fell to the floor, quite dead. JC breathed out.

At the end of the hallway, the UNATCO agent yelled to the other commandos. The two remaining commandos came into view. At that moment, JC's bio electrics ran dry, disabling all of his augmentations for the time being. He had no cover, was not fast enough to avoid the next barrage, and could no longer access an augmentation that would allow him to survive, albeit with major injuries anyway. The commandos hunched over, and raised their arms to fire. He would only have enough time to pull off at least one shot. And that was it. He would die when the shrapnel came. Unless he some how managed to kill BOTH commandos with one shot.

The UNATCO agent crouched with the commandos to fire. Her sub machine gun glinted at him as she raised it. With this sudden act, an idea spurred in his mind. He thought about it with the nano seconds he had left to spare. It could work, he decided. It was all he had left. He quickly aimed at the sub machine gun in her hands, and fired. The bullet ricocheted off of the sub machine gunwhich flew out of the agents hands, and tore a ragged hole in the neck of the nearest commando. The bullet continued traveling, and slamed into the left temple of the next commando. Both soldiers let out hissing noises, along with a few mechanical blurbs. They fell to the floor, flat line signals announcing their deaths.

* * *

Vixen was left unarmed, and severely humbled.

_Impossible...thats...thats not possible. How could,he have done that, it was so...so perfect. He was dead...he was..._

"H-...how.." she stammered. She stopped as JC aimed at her head. She quickly dived as he fired, the bullet tearing past her. She quickly activated her Yamamoto Stealth Vest, and ran.

_He doesn't have thermal imaging...he doesn't have thermal imaging...just keep saying it and keep running._

She had once thought that nano-augs weren't the ideal agent, that only pure human resolve would overcome any enemy in both espionage and spying. She was severely wrong, and now...she was afraid.

* * *

JC aimed at the female agent's head and pulled the trigger. She anticipated the move and dived to the left as he fired, and suddenly disapeared from sight, but not completely. He could make out a faint silhouette among the gray halls.

_Thermoptics.._ it was difficult to make out her image, so it didn't come as a surprise when he lost her completely. It didn't matter to him. If she wanted to back out of a fight, it was fine with him.

Confident that he would'nt be hailed again, he quickly made haste for the Level Three enterance. No more challenges waited for him, and in the next two minutes he was past the retinal scanner, and inside Level Three.

* * *

"Attention all personal. Major security breach has been detected near the Level Four enterance. We know we've been having security isues over the last few hours, but stay on your toes, and be alert. Patrols are being established at Level Three right away. Thank you for your time, and paitence."

Manderly clicked off the annoucement system, and sighed heavily on his swivel chair. Vixen never reported back, leading him to think that she'd been killed by JC, and the worst part now was that they'd detected a hostile near the Level Four enterance. Weather it was JC or not, he wouldn't escape.

Oh no...he would die. He would die for betraying his country, for the deaths of countless MJ-12 personal in L4, and most of all, for compromising Manderley's position.

As if on cue, the holo-projector beeped. He quickly thumbed the activation key on his computer, and the face of Walton Simons appeared in the corner of the room.

"We have thing's to discuss...Manderley."

Authors Note: UNATCO Escape will follow...


	10. UNATCO Escape, Part One

Deus Ex: The Conspiracy

Authors Note: I do not own Deus Ex, or Ion Storm. A rather sad fact, really ( Well, we've reached chapter ten, and we're still going strong at over 40,000 words! Keep up the reviews, they always get me off my lazy ass and write!

Chapter Ten: UNATCO Escape

_Seven minutes earlier._

Decker looked over the corner of the enterance to Level Three. A lone trooper stood guard. Come to think of it, he wasn't EVEN standing guard, more like lounging. He was standing over a small water cooler, a plastic cup held in his hand. He wasn't even facing the enterance. He was an easy enough target. But then, the delimma came that always plauged him when he was faced with this sort of situation. To kill him, or not to kill him. It would be simple to just raise his silenced pistol, and shoot him in the head. But...the water cooler, the little plastic cup..the fact that he wasn't even doing anything remotely like guarding...it would of been so much easier on him if the young man was simply holding a weapon.

He swore to himself for being so sensitive, and began to creep up on his target, readying himself to knock the soldier unconscious. When he was within five feet of him, the PA system crackled.

"All personal return to your office or lounging area immeadiatly. A lights out drill is about to begin. All bystanders will be relieved of duty. That is all."

"Shit." the trooper said. He tossed the plastic cup into the garbage can, and, without so much as glancing in Decker's direction, ran off to an office, or rec room, or whatever the hell he was going.

_Thanks.._ Decker thought to himself. He vaugely wondered who it was that he was actually thanking. If it had been ten years ago, perhaps it would of been God. Not anymore. He'd lost faith in religion long ago.

He slowly advanced up the gun metal ramp, and into the medical office. Three operating tables came into view, accompanied by several patient bed's. Four of the bed's were occupied by sleeping soldiers, and two body bags resided on the operating tables. He tip-toed across the room, and hoped the nearby medical bot' wouldn't try to win him over with statistics on how experts rated medbot's more effective than human doctors blah, blah, blah.

The plan was simple, stay in the med area, and make contact with JC after he'd met up with Paul. At that moment he heard a hoarse cough from the other end of the office. Jaime Reyes stepped into view, probably looking for cough medicine. Decker had no chance to move before Jaime spotted him. At that moment, all the lights went out.

"Hello!" the doctor called out. He quickly ran into the other office, and shut the door behind him. Decker came up to the door, and softly tried to open it. It creaked open. Jaime sat at the far side of the room, on the computer, probably trying to hail Manderley. Decker quickly shot the keyboard with his pistol.

"Calm down Jaime, I'm on your side."

Jaime went into his lab coat and retrieved a small pistol. He fumbled at it, obviously inexperianced. Decker quickly snatched the gun away, and placed it into his pocket. Accepting defeat, he backed away into the corner holding his hands above his head. Decker rolled his eyes.

"You're overreacting, doctor. I'm Decker Parkes, I'm with the NSF."

"So I've noticed." Jaime said dryly.

"It's a long story, but to make it short, I'm helping JC Denton escape. You don't mind do you?" He asked. It sounded almost silly coming from him, as if trying to reason with a five year old.

"Oh..." Jaime said. He smiled a bit, but quickly narrowed his eyes. "If you want me to defect-"

"Oh cut the crap, I'm just helping him escape, ok?" He thought about the doctors word's for a moment. "You'd consider defecting?"

"Only if JC or Paul asked me. I'd trust them. If Paul asked, I would do it in a heart beat though, and not just because we go back." Paul and the doctor were great friends, Paul had always had a joke or two to tell that he'd heard from this man.

"What else would change your mind?" Decker asked. He slowly put down the weapon, all the tension from the confrontation having passed.

"To tell you the truth, I just haven't been agreeing with the Coalitions tactics. I don't think any of us have. We''ve become more..." he stumbled around the words. "Brutal...distrusting. The Coalition wasn't always like this, you know...get down. I hear something. "

Both of them hudled together, in the darkness they could hear pounding footsteps. Multiple even. The culprits came through the med center, nearly going inside the office, and proceeded to Level Four. As soon as they were out of earshot the lights came back on.

"That can't be good." Decker said. It was probably a strike team sent in to eliminate JC. He hoped he could survive, and turned back to talk with Jaime.

* * *

JC Denton came through the threshold to Level Three, and looked around. He was near Jaimes office, recognizing the gun metal ramp that led up to it. No soldiers were in sight. JC lowered his magnum and shot a glance behind him. There were probably other commandos inside Level Four, including the UNATCO agent. He quickly activated his muscle augmentation and ripped the nearby retinal scanner out of its electrical outlet. The remnants of the scanner crackled, and failed to show life.

_That oughta stall them for at least few minutes. _JC thought. He continued up the ramp, and noted the presence of several sleeping soldiers. He looked over to Jaime Reyes office. At that same moment, Decker peaked his head out, and nearly banged his head into the wall behind him.

"Get in here quick, their about to send a patrol here." he said.

JC followed him into the office and spotted Jaime at the end of the office, looking on the computer.

"JC!" Jaime smiled, "From what your friend here was telling me, I was thinking that you weren't gonna make it! Good to see you."

"I forgot to give Manderley my resignation." JC said.

Jaime looked down, "I heard they killed Paul."

"MIB's raided the apartment, but he survived. Don't worry about him."

"Oh, thank god." Jaime said, breathing in. It would of really hurt him if Paul had died, they were great friends. His eyes darkened, "Manderley's a snake. He told me that neither of you would be in danger...ah, your friend here was talking to me about your little resistance..."

"Yeah, Paul told me to do some recruiting up here. How about it?" JC asked.

Jaime thought for a moment. "Of course I will. I haven't been too hot with the Coalition anyway, what can I do?"

JC thought for a moment, a plan formulating in his head. "I'm heading to Hong Kong next, why don't you meet us there? There's already gonna be a large rendevous. I'll do more recruiting, and Decker will escort all of you to Hong Kong. Is that ok, Decker?"

"Yeah, I'll stay here with Jaime."

Jaime fished around in his pocket, and brought out a small vial. "It's an augmentation module, a shipment from Versa Life." JC took the vial, "It's got regeneration nanites inside."

"Thanks, your bot's can do the installation right?"

"Absolutely...it was supposed to be your welcome-aboard present..."

"Guess it will have to be a retirement gift." JC turned to Decker. "Follow me, when we've cleared the facility, go back and collect all of the recruits."

"Right." Decker said quietly.

He turned to Jaime. "Stay here, Decker will come for you soon."

"Alright, JC."

JC and Decker turned and left the office, leaving Jaime to wonder if he was getting way over his head.

* * *

"Attention all personal. Major security breach has been detected near the Level Four enterance. We know we've been having security isues over the last few hours, but stay on your toes, and be alert. Patrols are being established at Level Three right away. Thank you for your time, and paitence."

As if on cue, several soldiers ran past Private Newman, including Corporal Collins, and Sergeant Berry. Kaplan would of been among them, if he hadn't been killed just four hours earlier. Thinking this made Newman lower his eyes toward the ground. They'd been great friends, though Kaplan was a bit on the pushy side. He still couldn't get over the fact that he was dead.

He'd been pretty torn up about it, three hours ago, but he'd calmed himself down recently. They told him that Agent Denton had killed him, after his defection. He vowed to kill him, but they told him it was silly, and he told HIMSELF that such thoughts were silly. They were already going to execute him, the bastard knew full well what happened to traitors. But now it looked as if something had gone wrong.

_Must of escaped the prison. _He thought. Even if he did though, he didn't see how one man could hope to stand up to a full squad of soldiers. He finished this one thought just as the shooting started.

As soon as the troopers came down the stairs, they instantly saw JC and Decker and began to fire. JC quickly activated balistic protection and drew their fire away from Decker as he dived into cover. They were near the bathrooms on Level Three. Decker hid behind a couch as JC deactivated the energy draining augmentation and went into womens room.

Sergeant Berry quickly called out orders. "You three into the bathroom, we'll deal with the rebel!"

After that he heard an exchange of gunfire, and the sounds of someone running toward the prison block. "Get after him!" Berry ordered. Another rush of footsteps, leaving three troopers behind. He heard Corporal Collins among them, "Move!"

JC searched around for a place to conceal himself. The stalls were far too obvious, something else would be needed. He spotted a ventilation shaft on the ceiling, and took out his crowbar. He pryed the grating from the ceiling, and jumped in using his speed aug, with the grating still in his hands. Hanging from an alcove in the rafters, he replaced the grating and waited for the troopers. Two seconds later, they kicked the door down. Collins came in with an assault shotgun and sprayed the entire room with buckshot, leaving much of the bathroom filled with concrete chippings, and both stall doors on their hinges.

"Move!" Collins ordered. The other soldiers quickly filed in and stood at both stalls. Collins signaled for them to kick the doors down, and both troops filled the stalls with bullet holes. After the bullets stopped, they cocked their heads in confusion.

"What is it?" Collins asked.

"Er, he's not here, sir." the first one admitted.

"Same." the other troop said.

Without signaling to the troops, Collins looked up and fired a buckshot round into the grating, destroying it. Taken by surprise, JC lost his handling on the alcove and fell to the floor below. With seconds to spare, he activated his speed aug and backfliped inside the room to avoid the first storm of bullets. While in mid air he went into his trench coat and brought out the first thing that came into his hands, the crowbar. JC sweared out loud as his flip came to it's end behind the two UNATCO troops. He activated his strength and ballistic augs and quickly swung the crowbar into the face of the closest troop. A sickening crunch erupted from the soldiers skull as it tore through the skin and bone, settleing at the back of his head.

Blood splattered into JC's aviators as he released his hold on the end of the crowbar and tackled the other trooper into the nearest stall. The trooper yelped as he fell into the toilet, the momentem causing it to shatter painfully into his back. JC snatched up a piece of the toilet and ripped the soldiers helmet off. He stabbed the object into the top of the soldiers head, killing him. Without a breath, he unholstered his magnum and rolled out the stall to face Collins, several buckshot casings fell off of his trench coat. Collins had shot him several times as he dispatched both troopers, a process that took less than ten seconds. Pain suddenly shot up JC's spinal cord, releasing all the adrenaline from his system. He let out a low scream, and quickly shot Collins. The bullet penetrated his leg, causing him to fall to the floor, grimicing in pain.

JC quickly kicked him in the chest, knocking him unconscious. JC went over to the first trooper and ripped the crowbar out his face, carrying parts of his broken skull along with it. Then he sat down, and mended the wounds in his back with a few medkits. After that, he threw up. Then, as if nothing happened, he calmly left the room, without looking at the bloodied bodies.

* * *

"Goddamn terrorist!" a soldier spat at Decker as he ran into the prison block. Two troopers waited for him in there, apparently unaware of the chase. The first one looked at Decker in confusion before being shot in the head. The other soldier fell out of his chair after the other troopers body was flung backwards. Decker relocated his aim to the other trooper and fired for the head, and hit the chest instead. The trooper let out an agonized scream and crawled away behind the chair, bleeding horribly.

"Int-t-tru-." Decker heard the soldier gasp into the intercom. He rounded the desk and shot the soldier twice at point blank. Both bullets tore through the soldiers head. Decker stared at both bodies and quickly wiped a tear from his eyes. He despised it when he was forced to kill people, which was why a tranquilzer bow was his prefered weapon. He couldn't remember a time where he hadn't teared up after killing. He quickly hid behind the desk as his pursurers charged in.

"Oh, god."

"Two casualties, sir."

Their sergeant came in, "Okay, fan out."

Gunshots erupted from far away. He hoped JC was alright. He brought up his handgunan H&K-VP for better rate of fireand did his best to keep his hands steady. The first troop came into view, his assault gun held to his eyes. His eyes settled on Decker, and he opened his mouth to shout to his team mates, but Decker pulled the trigger twice. Two bullets slammed one after the other into the soldiers chest, first dazing the trooper, then the second bullet knocked the life out of him.

"Shit! Baker's down!" an unseen soldier yelled. Decker knocked the desk over, taking the two troopers behind it off guard. He quickly punched the first one in the gut, and used his assault rifle to gun the other one down. He quickly jabbed his neck, knocking him unconscious. The sergeant put his rifle to his hip and fired dozens of bullets at him. Decker rolled out of the way of the trail of bullets, barely avoiding them. The sergeant raised his rifle and drove into a blind charge at Decker. Decker took his left arm, used his attackers momentum against him, and smashed him into the wall. He aimed the VP down at his head and fired. Blood splattered the back of the young man's helmet.

* * *

JC ran into the prison block to see Decker standing over Sergeant Berry's body. It looked like he was crying. JC quickly cleared his throat, causing Decker to jump and point the pistol he was holding loosely at him. He smiled feebly at him, and quickly wiped his eyes. JC opened his mouth to speak, maybe to say something sympathetic, not like it would be any help, he was terrible at that sort of thing. Before he got a chance to however, the PA inside Level Three came to life. "Squad Alpha, please respond."

JC ran over to Decker, "Why don't you go back to Jaime, I can take care of things."

"Yeah, ok." Decker said. Not even a fuss. He quickly ran out. JC gathered ammo from the fallen troopers. After doing this, his infolink buzzed in. It was the robotic voice again. "These distractions must cease. Please exit to the helipad. Potential encounters on Level Two include Janice Reed, Joseph Manderley, and Anna Navarre." JC stopped, and now took the time to actually contemplate this voice. It was something called Daedalus, and obviously wanted JC to escape, but for what reasons he could not fathom. This line of thought suddenly made him think of Alex Jacobson. He was the hacker, and him going under an alias like this made sense. He quickly ran out of the prison block, and stopped at Anna Navarres computer, remembering the killphrase. He wasn't much of a hacker, and couldn't guess her password. He would make Alex do it, he decided. He walked into the communications hub, and saw Alex at the far end of the room, with a pair of headphones on. No wonder he couldn't hear all the gunshots. He walked and tapped his shoulder. Alex yelped and fell out of his chair, quickly looking up. JC ripped the headphones off.

"Hello...Daedalus." he said, circling Alex. "I hope my escape was entertaining to watch."

"What the fu-"Alex began before perking up when hearing about Daedalus. "Daedalus? What-"

"You haven't been contacting me under an alias?"

Alex looked thoroughly confused. JC offered him a hand and helped him back up. He dusted himself off, and turned back to JC. "Well, the link went down. At first I thought they'd executed you."

_Well this fucks things up._ JC thought. "Someone cut power to detention, who else would have access?"

Alex sat back down at the computer and hit several keys, brining up the security moniter. "Well, the log here shows no unauthorized transmissions, but then again, the security has been in shambles lately. But you know, I installed the security myself, it's unbeatable...normally. Your're starting to scare me."

JC removed his sunglasses and rubbed his bright blue eyes, "Not as much as you're scaring me...Why would this guy want to rescue me?"

He laughed, "A better hacker than I. A trick like thatwell, it crossed my mind, I have to admit. I'm pretty disgusted with the agency right nowbut I would've been caught."

"No, you wouldn't take that chance.." JC said.

"I won't just sit down and watch..I'd give you the key to the front door, but Anna is on patrol on Level Two, you'd have to take her down first."

"No small feat...you sound sincere, you should quit the Coaltion"

Alex laughed out loud as if he were joking, then saw that he was serious. "Er, and do what?"

"Track me down in Hong Kong, there's already gonna be a big rendevous there. Decker will pick you up once I'm done."

"Whoa there, whoes Decker?"

"A terrorist."

"Oh, great." Alex rolled his eyes. "And what will happen after that?"

"Just find a way, I'm sure you can all think of something."

"Ok, just take out Anna before hand."

Remebering the computer problem, JC said, "Can you give me the password to Anna's computer?"

"Yeah, sure. It's Scryspc."

"Spell it out." JC said.

"S-C-R-Y-S-P-C" Alex said.

JC wrote it down on his datapad, "And Manderleys?"

"Knight underscore killer, all together."

"Thanks alot, I'll get back to you after dealing with Navarre." He quickly left the office and headed for the armoury. Upon coming in, Carter quickly held a gun to his chest, and sighed in relief. He lowered the gun.

"General Carter.." JC began, and quickly winced at himself. Sam hated being called his former rank.

He didn't even allow a smile, and turned towards the iron door. "We've been through that soldier," he said. It was almost hypocritical, Sam not allowing him to call the man "General" when Sam himself refered to JC as "soldier" all the time. "Just Carter."

JC quickly cut to the chase, "I've discovered some things about UNATCO.."

"I don't want to hear it. I'll unlock the armory, there should be enough munitions to let you escape without a fuss." he said, and did just that. He calmly walked inside, and turned on his computer. JC was almsot amazed at the mans lack of intrest. Something was holding him back, and he intended to find it.

"Walton Simons, and Manderley, they-"

"Load up, that's an order, soldier." Carter said dismissivly.

JC gave up and finished quickly. "I'm going to the other side, you should join me."

Carter let out a depressed sigh, and rubbed his left eye, the only good one. "Let's get one thing straight. We've got our fair share of crooked bureaucratsfactbut this is UNATCO, and by and large the people here ARE twenty four carat gold."

_He doesn't even suspect the conspiracy, does he?_ JC thought."What good is an honest soldier if he can be ordered to behave like a terrorist?"

"Huh" Sam said, "The trump card. Well, the way I see it is that if the good people stay, the agency will turn out fine. We'll get this place back on track, you have my word on that Agent." he turned back to his computer and made no attempts to argue with JC when he tried to coax him over to the other side as he loaded up on ammo.

"What happens if you're wrong, General?" JC asked.

He turned back to JC, and stared at him with his one good eye, "Then we've lost all hope, soldier."

JC left, leaving Carter alone, with his computer. He turned back to the email, and shuddered.

..._we appreciate your help in this endeavour, and of course, any attempt to replicate or track this email will not be succesful._

_Sincerely, The Minister of True Lies..._

* * *

Walton Simons lit up yet another cigarette, burned through it quickly, and tossed the butt to the floor, away from the holographic image to where Manderley would never see it. His foot breifly disapeared for a moment as he stamped it's light out. He was the biggest chain smoker he'd ever seen, he couldn't last an hour without going through a pack it seemed.

_How he retains his physic is beyond me..._Manderley thought. Manderley himself was pudgy, and hardly worth a match in a physical fight. He remembered the old days, when he was just a cadet, and UNATCO was still young...Those were the days. And Simons, he looked like he could lift three hundred pounds, hardly the physic of a bureaucrat. Of course, he knew what Simons truly was, and was not permited to speak of it.

That train of thought led him to one he'd been dreading. This meeting was not about how they could make up for the horrendous loss their two best agents, it was about _firing_ him for it. That was only part of it though, no, they would go the extra mile to ensure their secrecy. He could almost invision it now. Him, sleeping a restless sleep in his _own _home as an assassin crept up on him wearing thermoptic camo...

He had to find a loophole. Had to find someway around the inevitable. He realized he was sweating profusely, so he took out a handkercheif and wiped his face. Walton looked breifly amused, for a man who was incapable of smiling. They continued from where they had left off.

Walton uttered the words that sealed his fate, "I think you'll be much happier at the Library of Congress."

Manderley stamped at the floor, and silently cursed himself for doing it. It made him seem like a five year old. "I can't control a mans mind!" he stammered.

Walton brushed dust off the sleave of his trench coat, a self conscious act, to busy himself with a small matter for a fraction of a second. He turned back up to him, "Despite whatever illusions you may have deluded yourself in, you're not a commander, hell, you were barely a soldier. We hoped you'd give UNATCO an urbane and diplomatic face, that's all. We screwed up our priorities." his eyes trailed to the corner of the room, then quickly back to Manderley, "We'll be sure to put a bigger man in next time."

"I-I refuse to do this! I WON'T do this!" he was screaming now, red in the face.

Walton looked back to the corner, and lit another cigarette. He took a long drag on it, and looked back toward Manderley, "Actually, I very much doubt that will be happening now."

_Thank God, the man has mercy in him!_ Manderley silently thanked to himself. He opened his mouth to speak, but Walton quickly cut him off, while throwing a look to the corner. "Look around, you fool. Your star pupil has come back to teach a lesson to his old instructor."

_No..._he shifted his view, and stared at the face of JC Denton. He held a pistol magnum to his head casually. "I never had time to take the Oath of Service to the Coaltion. How bout' this one?" he held up his left hand to his head, in mock salute, just as he'd been shown for his offical intitation. "I swear to almighty god that I, JC Denton, will not rest till UNATCO is free of you and the other crooked bureaucrats who've perverted its mission. Amen." He opened his eyes again, and shifted the aim to his head.

_This...this damned boy thinks he can mock me. _He gave out a gruff laugh, but it came out sounding scared and nervous. He cursed silently and spoke, "Big words for a rookie." It was now or never. "You'll regret your betrayal." With those words he quickly fell to the floor while pressing the intercom. JC was caught off guard and quickly took a potshot, missing his head by inches.

"Anna, get in here quick, Anna!"

"On the way, sir!" came her voice from the other end.

Walton Simons watched calmly as Manderley pulled out a pistol and fired a shot from the cover of the desk. It missed JC by feet, and JC quickly aimed his sights toward the shaking hands as he fired again and a again.

_Yes, yes. My last resort, if they kill me then at least I can die knowing I killed you, yes, diediedie-_ Manderley thought before a magnum round pierced his arm. He dropped the pistol with a jerk and found that he was sobbing in pain.

_No, no! No-_

* * *

Walton Simons watched the holo image of Manderleys room shimmer as the JC walked over to the desk, looked over, aimed the magnum and fired. Manderley's static filled screams were quickly cut short. Walton could not help but feel ecstastic, in a twisted way. He was such a fine creation... it was a shame he'd defected. He had no remorse for his enemies, such a perfect killing machine. Where had it all gone wrong? JC turned back toward the hologram and spoke in a low, almost whispering voice, "Consider THAT my resignation."

"I must say, bravo. You did our dirty work for us. But don't get cocky, you'll be dead in thirty two hours, another six billions dollars down the drain." he goaded.

"We'll see about that." JC said, before shooting the holo projector, leaving Walton alone in the darkness, the only light coming from the static of one of so many survealiance cameras. He started to laugh, a disturbing thing coming from someone like him. For the first time in his life, he wanted to smile.

* * *

JC looked back over at Manderleys body. He was surprised at how little remorse he felt after putting the bullet into his head. At the academy he'd always daydream during classes about walking down a reception in Liberty Island, to shake hands with Manderley as he told him in a speech what a great agent he was. Then of course he'd meet President Mead, and Paul would tell him that he was proud of him. Such things seemed so sureal now. He tried thinking back to that daydream, but found that he just couldn't picture such an event. He couldn't believe how ignorant he had been, how ruthlessly obvious the whole deception was now.

_Why did you go into his office? You could of just avoided a confrontation all together and gotten out without anything going ary. _He thought. As he passed the office, he'd planed to slowly incapacitate all of the security, and enable them to get out without raising any alarms, but he felt drawn to the office. It felt so silly, but he felt the need to set things straight with the deception of UNATCO, and killing Manderley seemed to be the only course of action. It was the first time he'd ever willingly wanted to take someones life, and the prospect has...scared him. It made him feel like he was becoming more like Anna-

"Hands up, 'agent'."came a russian accent from behind him.

_You fool, why did you stick around?_ JC thought to no one other than himself.

JC felt the long silencer of an assault rifle press into the back of his head. Anna Navarre slowly circled toward his front, keeping her fingers on trigger.

"So...you killed him?" Anna questioned.

"Nothing gets past you, Navarre."

She slamed the silencer into his head, causing a ringing sensation in his skull. She spat in his face, "Like your good friend Lebedev, I think it is my duty to give the verdict myself...hmmm.." she said mockingly, "I know!" she said, faking enthusiasm. A smile curled on her face as she lifted the barrel of the gun to his forehead. "Guilty."

Authors Note: Yeah, yeah, I'm terrible. Sorry for the cliffhanger guys.


	11. UNATCO Escape, Part Two and MJ12 Helibas...

Deus Ex: The Conspiracy

Authors Note: We'll get to Hong Kong this chapter...I promise!

Chapter Eleven: UNATCO Escape, Part Two and MJ-12 Helicopter Base

"Guilty." Anna Navarre said in a loud triumphant voice. She stared into his covered eyes as her finger put pressure onto the trigger. There was...no fear in them. Strangely, she felt disapointed by this. No...not strange at all actually. This man was a traitor, and as a traitor there was only one way of dealing with them. Execution. She pressed down hard on the trigger, and there was a sudden loud click.

_Empty! No-_

JC quickly took advantage of this and grabbed the weapon. She pulled hard on it to keep it within her grasp, a plan already formulating within her mind. They struggled with the weapon breifly, both of them barely making even a sound. It would have probably seemed almost humorous if neither of their lives were on the line. Anna waited for the pricise time, and JC did exactly as she wanted. He put all his weight into taking the gun from her, and hunched back. She quickly released her hold on the weapon, turning JC's plan against him. Taken by surprise, he fell backward and hit his head hard against the corner of Manderley's guest table. Anna's left hand went for her knife and had it up to bear within seconds. She flicked the weapon to her right hand, and lunged onto the dazed agent as he was getting back up. She had him back on the ground within seconds and had the knife at his throat in even less.

"You were lucky that time, but now your luck has ran out." she whispered before thrusting the knife at his throat. He bowed his head slightly to take the blow, and instead she chiped part of his chin off. JC screamed in pain and kicked her off of him. She was taken aback by the sudden burst of strength, but quickly settled on the explanation of him activating one of his "miracle augs". She did like wise, and clicked her left foot to the right, activating combat strength, which would give her arms a superior edge in meele combat. Because of her composition, augmentations were typically called upon by certain bodily movements, such as pounding the chest, or clicked her head sharply to the left.

JC was up before she had a chance to bear down on him again, his chin bleeding horribly. She noticed the muscles in his arms bulging outward, almost grotesque in appearence. His legs also showed signs of enlargement behind the jumpsuit. Anna feinted to the left with her knife, and lunged at his right side. JC anticipated this, and quickly had a firm grasp on her arm. She felt nothing there of course, her nervous system was modified to reroute pain, but she could see that he was putting heavy pressure upon it, and she began to feel a little dazed as the circulation in her arm was cut off. JC kneed her in the gut, and she knew suddenly that it was over.

But it wasn't. Two UNATCO troopers barged in, looking mean and determined, but this quickly dissapeared as they took in the scene around them. Their cheif was dead, and two augmented agents were duking it out in the middle of a destroyed room.

"Don't just stand there, shoot!" Anna shouted quickly.

JC attempted to put her in between him and the oncoming bullets, but she resisted, so he released his hold on her, and quickly dived behind Manderley's desk as the troopers opened up. She heard JC take out a pistol, and click the safty off. Just perfect. JC rose from the desk and aimed at her head. She quickly took a UNATCO trooper and made him take the bullet, getting him in the chest. She felt him spasm in pain, and started to cough up blood. She seized his assault gun and tossed the grunt to the floor. She aimed it at JC, and let a few rounds fly before he ducked again. The second trooper was staring at his now dead companion and looked up at her. It occured to her that he was about to change sides, so she quickly let off a few rounds into his face. They were alone again, and now she was armed at least.

She aimed the assault gun at the desk and noticed something. JC had taken the computer off of the desk, and she heard him frantically clicking the mouse. She smiled and pressed the trigger, and held it there until the clip ran dry. When the smoke cleared, there were dozens of bullet holes in the desk, but no JC. He was off to the corner of the room already, aiming a magnum at her head. She pounded her chest, and her cloak activated as JC fired. The bullet missed the side of her head by a hair, and now she couldn't be seen. JC stopped, and observed the room, on look out for suspicious movements. She quietly tip toed out of the room, and put a new clip into her assault gun. When she came back in with the gun raised, JC wasn't even there. She saw the computer cord lead into the now closed bathroom. She smiled.

_He's a fool if he thinks he can hide. But why is he so obsessed with the computer?_ she thought. It didn't matter, she didn't care. She had intended this to be quick and smooth, but she had made the mistake of not checking to she if her damn gun even had ammo. She had been too hasty, and it had almost cost her her life, but now she could make up for it. She'd felt strange all evening, and parts of yesterday. After her...moment with Gunther. She wanted more moments like that, she decided, and the only way to ensure that was to make sure the traitor was dead. Yes...he would be proud. He always was.

She kicked the door open, still thinking of Gunther and saw JC standing calmly at the end of the room, the computer glowing on the bathroom floor. He didn't even have his gun drawn.

"You are a fool to lower your defenses." she announced. She raised the weapon, and her finger began to press downward into the trigger.

"Take your best shot. Flatlander woman."

She spasmed, as if someone had grated their fingernails unto a blackboard. She felt herself drop the gun, and she fell to her knees.

_"Self Detonation Sequence protocal confirmed, five seconds to completion."_ The voice in every mech's head that they feared. She felt her modified body parts disengage, felt her augmented compartments spring apart, felt the metal apparatus in her spinal cord fold up painfully, felt her reinforced bones crumble to dust, and finnaly felt the joints in her brain that rerouted pain dissentagrate. And then the eye socket enforcers gave way, and all the moisture in her now destroyed eyes spilt from them. She was crying now, for the first time ever since her intergration as a mechanized agent. The emotions that had not been allowed to surface came tumbling through. She stared at JC Denton, this man who had brought her death, and felt nothing. She only thought about Gunther. The fact that they had only known each other as comrades in arms was her only regret now. And disbelif. She had been so powerful, no one could touch her, and the utterings of two single words were enough to kill her. She felt anger for this, and felt the need to address one last thing before dying.

"How did you know?" she asked, knowing she would be dead before receiving an answer.

Then, her body let out a sickening moan, and shattered, finnaly giving her salvation.

* * *

JC held up an arm to his face as Anna Navarre exploded. She deserved it. She had killed countless suspects mercilessly, hidden evidence from him in killing Lebedev, and nearly killed him. She had been more than just a tool, like the UNATCO troopers, she had been a sadist, and combative. Yes, she deserved to die, but he still felt something nagging at him. Was it the fact that he'd killed someone who was on the same level as he? He told himself that more important matters were at hand, and quickly left the office, leaving three bodies, and the remains of one alone. When Anna had retreated, he quickly took the computer from the floor, and brought it into the bathroom. There he learned the last part of the killphrase three seconds before Anna barged in.

He vaguely wondered how Gunther would react, and quickly told himself to stop thinking about the matter. He looked over to the reception desk. Janice Reed was still knocked out cold. His infolink buzzed in at that moment.

"You gave her EXACTLY what she deserved, I've watched her kill dozens of suspects." Alex said, "C'mon down and get the key."

"Roger." JC replyed.

He made his way back downstairs, observing the area. It had once been all very neat, and modern, but now bullet holes were everywhere, as well as blood. The females restroom was totaled, and the prison block looked like a war zone. It would take thousands to repair. If it took more money out of the conspirators hands, he was content. The adrenaline had all but vanished from his system, and he suddenly realized that he had killed just about every soldier on the premises, and all of them had been his friends, even fellow graduates from the academy. He looked at the face of one of them on the floor, and recognized him to be the man he'd stood with at the academy photo. All people dying for the wrong reasons. It was the conspirators who puppet mastered their deaths, he was simply the grim reaper. It occured to him that Corporal Collins was still alive, and he considered just taking him out while he was unconscious. He let the thought go. He had killed enough for one evening, but he knew the trail of death was far from over. He walked into Alexs office, and saw him...getting out from the _floor._

"Whoa, hold on there." JC said, "Where were you?"

"Oh, this is the janitors secret stash, where he keeps his cigarettes, keys, and all kinds of junk." he said, as if it were common knowledge. It probably was.

"Someones been stealing from it though." Alex mumbled.

"Anything of use in there?" JC asked.

Alex looked inside, and brought up a credit chit. He examined the dash number on the chit, and threw it to JC. "Six hundred credits, should be good enough in Hong Kong."

_Get me through...damnit!_ It suddenly came back to him that Hong Kong was still the biggest captialist venture in the Asian continent. He'd need alot of money to get the right information, or just about anything there. He brought out his credit chit card as Alex pulled himself out of the secret compartment. He had about...two thousand credits on hand. Somehow he knew it would not be enough for the kind of information he'd be needing.

"You okay, JC? You seem a bit spaced out." Alex said as he approached him. JC pulled himself away from his future "business" in Hong Kong, and focused on the present. He still had to break out of HQ. "Here's the key to the door." Alex said, handing him an orange key, emblazoned with the UNATCO star on it.

"Stay here until Decker comes for you. I'll send for him soon." JC said, turning to leave.

"Why can't you just take us all with you?"

"I've got my own reasons." he didn't want to start contemplating Daedalus' motives, and had no time for questions. "Besides, the helicopter only has enough room for two people, and Decker is the only one I'd consider taking, but he's staying with you guys. Trust me, we'll meet in Hong Kong, but you'll have to get there yourself." This was assuming of course that Jock was even outside. For all he knew he was being interogated by MIBs...That was another thing to worry about later. They said their goodbyes, and JC left the office, and went back up to Level Two.

* * *

Shanon Dohery looked over as Private Newman stared at her with the same dopey grin that he ALWAYS wore. She made a show of smiling back. Now wasn't really the time for distractions, and JC Denton was probably gonna come barging in at any moment. While all the other privates went out to hunt for the rogue agent, Newman had elected to stay with Shanon in the rec room. If she actually liked him, this would have flattered her.

Fortunately, she did NOT like this man, and instead stayed focused on her true agenda. UNFORTUNATELY however, he would not take his eyes off of her, and she was finding it difficult to...go to work while he stared at her all day.

"Well, Robert, why don't you...guard the door."

Newman acted as if he were coming out a trance, jumped, and blushed crimson.

"Uhh, yeah, sure." he said.

She smiled again, and quickly went into her purse.

_Let's see, I've got the key to the front door, my big escape, and we've got our lil' hacking device to do all the work for me. Oh...I'll be SO rich after this._ She thought elatedly. All of this interning, all of this sucking up to Manderley and all the others was finnaly gonna pay off. Her biggest heist, stealing 600,000 credits from the UNATCO security bank. It took months of stealing items from the armory, the secret compartment in Alex's office, and from Manderley to afford the hacking device, but it would all be worth it. The only snag now was JC Denton becoming a turn coat, potentially putting her little plan in peril, IF he opted for slaughtering all the employees in his way, which would spell a VERY sudden, and VERY useless death for her.

She also had a small pistol in her purse, for this very occasion. He never struck her as the senseless murdering type, but she had to assume he was just like all the other mech's. She stole another glance at Newman, and pressed the hacking device onto the side of the bank terminal. Then, it would bypass all the defenses Alex Jacobson had in place, and siphon all the money in UNATCO's treasury to her account. She was gidy with excitement. NOW she could live like a queen.

She remembered the other life she'd led...a petty theif on the streets of Hells Kitchen. Not anymore. Now she would buy the rights to one of the big apartments on the New York City skyline, looking over the helpless bums on the street, hundreds of feet below. She would start a business with this money, perhaps a flying car dealership. Those things were a big hit now, a luxary to those who could afford them, which were usually the ones living the good life, while all the other citizens were stuck with tracked vehicles. Yes, it would all go as planned.

She checked the status on the hacking device. Only two more minutes till it could start the transfer. She felt like dancing with joy. A gunshot interupted her numreous fantasies, and she quickly looked back and saw Newman running out of the rec room, pursuing someone. She suddenly heard a crack, like bones being broken. Newman let out a soft groan, and then there was the noises of someone crumpling to the floor.

_Oh no, please no!_ Shanon thought as she hid in the kitchen. JC Denton appeared in the kitchen, and looked over to her. He had no gun out, and was first surprised, then just amused.

"Carry on with your banking, Shanon." he said.

Shanon sighed in relief. She was safe. Then, he started for the bank terminal.

_Shit!_ she thought.

He saw the hacking device, and looked over to her curiously. "What were you doing?"

"My...uh, banking." she said dumbly.

He looked back, and examined the device. He observed the flashing numbers for a moment, and realized what was going on. "You're stealing from UNATCO, aren't you."

The jig was up. She burried her face in her hands and weeped loudly. "Yes! Yes, the floor in Alex's office, the stolen equipment it was all me, I did it, YES!" she sobbed. "Please don't tell, please don't."

JC seemed surprised by her reaction, then amused again. "Calm down, I'm the last one whoes gonna bust you for stealing!"

She sniffed, "You mean it? Hush hush?"

He rolled his eyes, "Yeah, hush hush."

She stopped the dramatics, and quickly composed herself. She wasn't even acting there, she was sure that he was gonna bust her, and she would be sent to jail. It wasn't enough she realized, she had to solidify the deal. "How about some scrambler grenades?" she asked.

"What, you're gonna bribe me now? I already said I wouldn't bust..."he suddenly stopped, and looked at the hacking device, examining it, "You know, there is SOMETHING you can do that would keep me from telling..."

"Yes, yes, what is it?" she asked, pulling out her credit chit card.

"Give me this contraption. If it can bypass Alexs security, then it must be good." he said.

He had to be joking, she NEEDED this thing."Oh...well, I really-"she began.

"It's a trip to Manderleys office for you then." JC declared.

"Fine! Take it, but just wait while it empties UNATCO's pockets." she said.

"Good choice." JC said. He looked back to it."You're gonna be one rich lady."

"I've waited three years for this moment, actually." she admitted. "I used to be a theif in Hells Kitchen, but I had a knack for winning over bureaucrat's. Pretty big deception, right?"

"I can think of bigger ones, believe me." JC mumbled. "There. 600,000 credits."

"Great, take it." she said, containing her sudden excitement. JC removed the device, and stuck it in one of his coat pockets. Shanon quickly logged into her account, checked her status, and litteraly squeeled in joy.

"Glad you're happy." JC said. "Now, about those scrambler grenades..."

"Take them." She said. She handed the grenades to him, and suddenly thought about Newman. "Did you kill him?"

"No, but I broke his arm." JC said. "You should leave, they're gonna be even more pissed when they realize they no longer have the money to pay off all the damage."

"Yeah, yeah." She couldn't stop marveling over the numbers. 600,000 credits! It almost saddened her to close the screen. "Can you take me to Hells Kitchen? Liberty Island is under lockdown."

JC thought it over. "I don't see why not. Do me a favor, get as far away from UNATCO as possible, don't let them find that money."

"Yeah, yeah." she said. In just a few days, she would be living the good life...

* * *

Though the entire situation seemed ackward, even silly at first, letting Shanon steal that money was more vital then JC had originally thought. Now they wouldn't be able to activly pursue him to Hong Kong, because they wouldn't be able to afford any more helicopters. They wouldn't be able to pay off the damages to HQ, they would lack neccesary munitions to fight terrorists becuase JC had raided the armory, and wouldn't be able to buy them back now. They'd also not be able to receive equipment from other bases, due to shipping taxes. In the long run, this would have more impact then he'd thought.

Of course, FEMA would send money to them, through Walton Simons, but it would be a slow process, and no organization would be able to give away 600,000 credits right off the bat without losing signifigant funds from their own acounts. Funding issues aside, JC and Shanon continued up the stairs and in two minutes they were out of HQ. Along the way Shanon made small talk.

"How many did you kill?" she asked quietly.

"Almost all of them, excluding Collins, Newman, Alex, Jaime, and Carter." JC admited.

"...You killed Manderley AND a dozen soldiers?" she asked incredulously.

"Agent Navarre as well." JC corrected.

"My god...you're...a killing machine." she said honestly. JC could not agree more.

Two minutes passed, and they were outside of HQ, leaving the reception office behind. JC was surprised to see that the Jocks helicopter was waiting near the helipad. At that moment his infolink buzzed in. He had two messengers. The first one had higher clearence, so Gunther Hermann came in. It sounded as if he was having difficulty breathing. "No, I will not forgive. NO! Not for the killing of Manderley, not for the deaths of all those troopers, and...and not for the killing of Agent Navarre! I WILL find you Denton! I will get you if it's the last thing I do!"

JC shuddered involuntarily before the second message came in. It was Decker. He also sounded distressed, like he'd just been crying.

"JC, when should we go?" he said in a monotone voice.

He motioned for Shanon to get inside the chopper, and he knelt down. "Now is good, make sure Alex disables the gates outside...is something wrong?"

"Yeah, something's wrong. Paul managed to get out...but he and the others were ambushed by MJ-12 Commandos before getting out. Three of them. Young got-...he-...he got killed during the fight...Erin is pretty out of it right now, and he...he was-"sobbing after that.

JC found that he wasn't all that bothered by the news...and that frightened him. He felt for Decker though, it had been rough night for the man, and he struck him as emotional. He wondered what caused him to become a terrorist. He felt more concerned about Gunther. "You should get out of there quickly." he said.

"Yeah." Decker said, regaining composure. "Over and out."

JC sighed and climbed onto the helicopter, in deep thought. He wondered if Paul felt the same as he did...uncaring.

Shanon looked angry, staring over at Jock. "Something wrong?" JC asked.

"Oh, we were just introducing ourselves!" Jock said with a grin. He whispered to JC as he climbed up to the co-pilots seat, "What's her name?"

"She needs to get to Hells Kitchen, can you fly her there?" JC asked.

"Sure, sure, anything for _that_ rack." Jock said loudly with a roaring laugh.

JC sighed, and wondered how someone could be that blunt. Shanon let out a small gasp, and stared angrily out the window. The helicopter rose up, and began to it's flight towards the city. JC moved closer and whispered, "How'd you know where to meet me?"

Jock looked over to him nervously, bitting his lip. "Daedalus...he called himself Daedalus."

"A friend of yours?" he asked. He had to know who Daedalus was...and why he wanted him out of UNATCO's grasp.

"No. I came because I owed your brother a few favors, and having HER here is enough!" he laughed again, and looked back out. Two minutes later they were flying over Battery Park.

"Hey babe, this place good enough?" Jock called to her.

"My name is SHANON, and this place is fine." she sighed.

Jock smiled and slowed the helicopter. With a flip of a switch he activated the landing gear, and the chopper touched down. Several bums outside looked up curiously. Shanon got out, and looked over to JC. "Um...thanks, JC."

"Make sure you're not caught." was all JC had to say. Jock looked over and yelled, "Call me!", and laughed again. The chopper rose up again, and sped off. JC could already see sunlight coming. It had been a LONG night. He went into the back, and settled there.

"You oughta get some shut eye, this is gonna take awhile." Jock said. He fliped a few switchs, and settled back into his own seat, taking the manual control. "Well, time to see if this thing is worth all the fuss. MJ-12's got a base in Hong Kong, and they'll be watching for us."

_So even Jock knows about them._ JC had been through a rough night, and had barely any time to collect his thoughts, but now he was safe. It was this time that the full realization hit him. It had been with him all night, but he had put it off, like a small inconveniance he would take care of later, but now was the time to face the facts. The United Nations was under the control of a cabal of leaders called Majestic Twelve. Ok. But how was that? Had the UN always been under their leash, or had it been something like a hostile take over? The second idea made little sense, because if someone had randomly seized power, then surely word of their control would have gotten out by now. It had to be the first one, that they had always been in control. And even more disturbing, their power probably extended to long before the United Nations. If so, then how much power did they have? Was it limited to the countries that were part of the United Nations, or did they control the politics of every government on the planet? Either option spelled limitless funds for the conspirators, and terrifying powers and influence. But what JC really wanted to know was this: How many people were aware of the conspirators existance? How many people were blissfully unaware that higher powers were the puppet masters of their every day lives? How many declared that they would die for their country, when instead they would simply die in the act of furthuring their secret masters agenda? And how many government officals knew they were working toward more sinister things then they disclosed, and did so willingly? The Conspirators most terrifying weapon was that no one believed in their existance. How could he possibly do anything to them?

JC shifted uncomfortably. He closed his eyes, and fell asleep almost immeadiatly.

* * *

"Now then, we'll begin the process..."said the voice. He knew this voice, and it always made him excited to hear it. It meant he was about to play a new game. It was the man with the brown hair. The man with brown hair liked him very much, he could tell from the way he talked to him. Of course, they were usually alone when they played, but today was different. The man with the scary red eyes was here, talking to the other one about "procedures" and "future training."

He fancied himself as a fast learner, so he was able to realize that he held a great deal of importance in the eyes of these people. The blonde woman kept on telling him that big things were going to happen with him, in a soft soothing voice. It made him feel happy, when she was around.

The brown haired man went over to a computer terminal, as the red eyed man stared at him. He looked away, feeling uncomfortable. This made the man laugh, and he turned to the brown haired one.

"Show's impeccable signs of awareness...You've out done yourself, Robert." he said in awe. He couldn't stop staring at him.

"All in a days work, or in this case, two years." he laughed. The red eyed man made a show of smiling, but it was obvious that he was hardly paying attention.

At that moment, the tube he was in drained completely, and he stood naked on the cold cemented floor. He could see clearly now, but like all other times it took some getting used to. He wavered a bit, but quickly restored his balance.

The red eyed man looked back excitedly to the brown haired man. "Is he capable of speech yet?"

"He has the body of a ten year old, it'll take a year before he learns." he mumbled as he pressed several keys.

"Make it sooner...my pet project is finnaly coming full circle. After this test he'll be ready for training...won't he?"

"...Yes."

Red eyes shot a glare at the brown haired man. "Are you having doubts, perhaps?"

"No, Page. He'll be ready for training after this test. I...promise you."

"Good. Begin the diagnostic."

He was confused. What in the world were these men talking about now? From the way they talked, this game would be signifigantly different from the other ones. The games he played with the brown haired man and the blonde woman usually involved athletics, like jumping, running, all sorts of things like that. There were also things like logic, sometimes mazes, or cubes with multi colored lines on them. He conquered them all of course, and they kept on saying how special he was afterward. The blonde one especially.

At that moment, two men in tuxedos came in. He saw these men alot. They were weird, having purple hair and the strange symbols on the backs of their necks. They were leading several men in. These men also weren't wearing anything, but he could tell that they weren't at all happy about their surrondings.

"Alright you bitch! I get taken off the streets, kept here for WEEKS, and striped naked for what!" one of them said.

The other men seemed to agree, but the man with red eyes just looked amused. The men with tuxedos pushed them nearer to him, and he began to grow apprehensive. These men didn't look like they wanted to play, they stared at him, in disbelif, rage, or confusion. They were acting as if they wanted to hurt him.

The man with red eyes went up to one of men with tuxedos and whispered something in his ear. The man nodded, motioned to the other one, and both left. The man with the red eyes, and the man with brown hair stepped far way from where they were. It suddenly occured to him that he, and the other remaining men were standing inside a long grey square. As soon as he recognized this, walls closed up all around them, but the wall was transperent. Red eyes took out a microphone, and spoke loudly to them.

"Alright men...we took you off the streets from your crimes and hookers, did we not?"

The men roared their agreement.

"Striped you down naked, left you comepletely belittled and without dignity...am I right so far?"

The men repeated their last action.

"And led you here! Left you in a CAGE with the only company of this, this little boy!"

"YEAH!" they screamed.

"Do you want to leave this place!"

"YEAH!"

"KILL HIM, AND YOU WILL LEAVE THIS PLACE!"

The man with the brown hairs eyes widdened, and he turned to the man with the red eyes, who was now patting himself off with a handkercheif.

"That wasn't the original diagnostic!"

"It is now." he said.

"He'll die!"

"If he does, he didn't deserve his power in the first place."

But he wasn't listening to their argument now. The men on the other side of the cage did not even question the red eyed mans authority. They looked toward him, with eyes full of rage and hatred, and charged. What did "kill" mean? Was it like hurting?

The closest man laughed as he charged him. He stood in place, unsure of what he was supposed to do. The others acting as if they knew perfectly what he was supposed to do, but of course did not say it, and instead they laughed at him. The first man reached him, and grabbed him by the neck. He felt something. It was pain. He knew what he was supposed to do now. He grabbed the mans arms, and attempted to pry them off, but to no avail. Seeing no other alternative, he delivered a swift kick to the mans exposed crotch. The man released his hold on him, and sank to the floor, groaning in pain. He took the mans head in his arms, and squeezed very, very hard. The man wraped his arms around him, as if he were hugging him, but he squeezed as well, but it was no where near the power he had. The mans face turned from rage, to a mask of pain. The color went from red to blue. His tounge extended from his mouth, and grew to an impossible length. He sputtered for a breath, but of course found no oxygen. He felt the mans inner neck collapse, and the man suddenly fell limp. He could hear clapping from the other side of the wall.

The two remaining men skidded to a halt, now wary of their opponent, while displaying a show of thorough disbelif. They whispered to each other, and both nodded. They took different directions, and ran to his sides, their arms flailing in punchs. He took a swift one to the face, and another to the left, and he dreaded the fact that he must hurt these men as well.He took one of their arms in his hands, and swung the man into the other one, their heads smacking into each other with a sickening crack. They both fell to the ground, and both scrambled to get up. He choose his target, and tackled the closest one. He punched the man in the face, many, many times before the other one ripped him off. He responded by kicking this mans legs out from under him, sending him to the ground. He dropped his elbow into the face of this man, causing blood to erupt from his mouth and eyes. He screamed in pain as he smashed his foot into this face, disfiguring it greatly. He raised his foot again, and brought it down into his face even harder. The mans head burst like a watermelon, and his only reward was more clapping, and his foot was covered in gore.

The remaining man let out a yell and tackled into him. He easily forced this man up, and jumped back up himself. They circled each other, the man with his fists raised, and him with his hands to his side. The man threw a punch at him, which he easily avoided, and brought his elbow up into his back. The man stumbled and fell to the floor, flailing his legs at him. He used both of his feet to halt this, and picked the man up. He threw him to the ground, and waited for him to get back up. The man did so, and used his last ounce of fight to charge blindly at him. He spun to the side, seized the man in his run, and placed both of his hands firmly at the sides of the mans chin. With powerful force, he turned the mans entire head completely round, with a long drawn out snap.

The man fell to the floor, and he quickly sat down, waiting for more. The walls retracted, and he saw that the man with the brown hair was sobbing hysterically in the corner, and the man with the red eyes came up to him...and hugged him, ignoring the blood that stained his lab coat.

"Our finest hopes, our aspirations for power...YOU my boy, will be my prototype." he whispered, as if sharing a dark secret. He laughed out loud, and continued to embrace him in his throes of inane joy. He stared out into the distance of the room...to see the woman with blonde hair. She wasn't looking at her husband, nor the blood all around him. She was staring at _him_, and he could only see sadness.

* * *

_Twelve Hours Later..._

JC woke up with a start in the cabin of the helicopter, and slowly sank back down into the leather seat. Another one of his notorious nightmares. He couldn't remember any of it, but he knew it was the same as the others. It gave him the same freaked out vibe. He looked out the window. Water stretched out far and wide.

"Where are we?" he asked with a yawn. Sleeping for all thoses hours did so much good for him it wasn't even funny. All he needed now was an actual bed, and he'd be set.

He heard Jock jump a few inches out of his seat. "Whoa, scared me there. We're on the coast of China, we should be within the city limits of Hong Kong soon."

"How long was I asleep for?"

"Twelve hours, damn boring time, but I spent most of it sleeping myself."

JC had to marvel at his skills as a pilot. He settled back down into the seat and closed his eyes again, still tired from his sleep. He could feel the drone of helicopter blades overhead, surprisingly quiet. Then, JC mentally smacked himself. This was a stealth chopper, in every way, shape, and form.

As if on cue, a small beeping came up on one of the navigation panels on the control board. Jock checked it, and cursed loudly. JC rose, and looked over sleepily.

"What's wrong?" he mumbled.

"Damn thing is crapping out on me. Hold on, let me do a more thorough check..." he examined the moniter, and pulled up an in-flight conputer screen. "There's a new destination...I can't control the old bird anymore." The realization slowly dawned on both of them. "Aw shit, MJ-12's got a lock on us." Jock said. "They're pulling the bird up to...The VersaLife building in the Wan Chi district. You'd better lock and load, JC; they'll be waiting for us."

JC removed his trench coat, and opened it up completely, looking over his equipment. A sniper rifle laid along the back, his magnum on a strap along the left side, the top left pocket filled with grenades of every type, and an assault rifle laid on a long strap on the right. An ultra high carbon knife lay in a protective sheath in the bottom left pocket, along with a riot prod, and finnaly all other pockets were filled with ammunition for every gun he went over.

"It checks out." JC said, putting the coat back on, and pulling out his magnum.

The chopper was well within the actual city now, filling JC's vision with flying cars, hundreds of floating adds in Chinese, elevated sidewalks, and neon lights of every color. Still a capatilist paradise, despite the countries hundred year old communistic government.

"We're entering the Wan Chi district now..." Jock said, making him sound almost like a tour guide. Not a bad assumption, seeing as how he'd flown his brother there so much. "They've locked the weapons on this bird too, so I can't use the chain gun or missiles to get us out of any fixes. He saw Jock take out a sawed off shotgun. JC looked out again to see the VersaLife logo on one of the buildings up ahead, getting closer by the second.

"Keep your fingers crossed; they might have concealed rocket launchers on the top of the building, lots of buildings in this city have em'."

The chopper came over the top of the building, and a helipad below opened up. The copter' slowly sank into the building, revealing a large maitenance bay. No MJ-12 troops were in sight.

"Strange," JC said, "I thought they'd be waiting for us."

"It's gotta be a trap." Jock mumbled.

JC had the same thought as the chopper touched down. Jock quickly opened his door, and let the hatch open for JC. Both of them stepped out, keeping their guns trained on the small exit at the far left side of the room.

"We'd better hide, we can catch them off guard." Jock said. JC nodded, and both of them advanced over to the exit, and stayed to the sides. JC shot a glance into the corridor with his magnum trained, but saw nothing. He motioned for Jock to follow.

"I saw a control room up there as we came in, we'd better get there if we want to get out of this mess." Jock said.

JC wasn't listening. He heard movement downstairs.

"I'll go alone, cover the stairs." JC said. Jock nodded, and looked up the other flight of stairs nervously. JC slowly advanced down the stairs, and came up to a window looking into what looked like a a barracks. Several MJ-12 soldiers sat beyond the wall, listening to what sounded like a breifing. JC crouched, and hid underneath the window. A gun metal stair case led up to several beds, and the locker room lay at the far side of the barracks. He could hear the spray of showers inside. He went over to the entrance to the room towards the right, and peaked over. Two soldiers in casual clothes were hunched over a third, playing what looked like a computer game.

_This doesn't make sense...why aren't they scrambling a team to go after us?_ JC thought. They were obviously picked up, and brought here, so why wasn't MJ-12 taking the intiative? Were these men not informed yet? JC dropped the subject, and concentrated on getting through the room without being spotted. The three soldiers on the computer weren't armed, but any of them could easily sound an alarm, and the ones listening to the breifing had assault guns slinged around their necks.

He had to think of some sort of distraction...alternativly he could simply toss a lam into the room and call it clear. But then a lockdown of the facility would most likely be initiated, troops would storm the helibase, and he had a feeling he'd have to waste even more lams. No...he had to settle on stealth.

_But how?_ The room wasn't exactly closely guarded, but it would be two easy for one of the soldiers to casually look over and see him. He backed up out of view, and slowly attached a silencer to the magnum, and loaded 10MM rounds. All just precautions, of course. He advanced outside again, and took a slow look around the room. The soldiers seemed pretty bored with the breifing, they constantly yawned, bit their nails, or looked around casually. JC was most worried about the latter. He realized it wasn't going to work, and backed out again. As he snuck out, something on the wall caught his eye. A light switch.

_So obvious...why didn't I think of it before?_ JC thought. He'd always had an annoying habit of thinking too much. Paul once said it was going to get him killed one day. He slowly went up to the switch, and clicked the lever towards off. The lights in the room instantly went out, rewarding him with shouts and cries of confusion. Walking on the balls of his feet, JC quickly ascended the stair case, and looked around. Decidedly...suggestive posters and bunk beds were all that were up here. The lights came back on, and JC quickly ducked and rolled under a bunkbed.

"What the hell happened?" a voice asked.

"Must of been a temporary power failure..." said another.

"Yeah, since when where power failures so easily fixed? It's foul play, search the area." said a loud and commanding voice.

"Sir, yes sir!" came a collective cry. There was a shuffle of feet. JC stayed put until he knew the entire room was empty. He worried vaguely about Jock, but figured he'd know how to handle himself. He rolled back out, and hurried down the steps. The computer was still on, pretend soldiers firing at each other on the screen. JC frowned, and exited the game. He had to know if they had tracked him here.

His infolink buzzed in, it was Daedalus. "Please go to "Important Documents."

JC obeyed without a second thought, vaguely wondering why he was suddenly listening so elatedly to his mysterious...benefactor.

"Next, go to 'File Section C-12'. There you will be asked for a password. MJ12 is the login, password is Inquisitor. You will see only one file. Download immeadiatly."

JC followed his instructions, and waited for the file to download. A small beeping emited from the moniter, signaling the completion of the download.

"Objective complete. Please exit the facility to the Wan Chi district."

JC shook himself out of the trance he'd been in and knealed to the floor, "What objective? What was in that file?"

"I brought you to the helibase for that reason, you have no more purpose in being there." Daedalus said, in a tone that sounded as if it was all supposed to be rather obvious. Daedalus was playing him like some kind of god figure, an entity that controled fate. How did this man know exactly what was going on the whole time?

"That's it? How does this file help you?" JC asked.

"It was encoded to Seraphic/8X personal only, such files are rarely left unguarded like that. If you are intrested in a sort of reward, please go to the roof of the compound, there you will find a stasis canister with experimentl language perception nanites. They will help you in your search for Tracer Tong...I am also unlocking the doors to the control tower. Please exit as soon as possible. I will guide you through the rest of this facility."

Now he was offering rewards? He didn't strike JC as the type who did that, unless it helped further his own goals. JC turned from the computer and started for the exit.

"Stop right there." Daedalus said. "Bypassing security measures...Your presence has been alerted from a security camera in the room. Accessing security network...two guards approach from the exit you are standing in front of, seek cover immeadiatly."

JC nodded to no one in particular and took cover at the far end of the room. Five seconds later, two black suited soldiers entered, sweeping their assault guns. The closest soldier signaled for the other to wait, and advanced. JC shot the waiting soldier in the head with a silenced round, and caught the body before it could reach the ground. He let it settle to the floor slowly, and poped a round in the back of the remaining soldiers neck. Blood sprayed out for a moment before he collapsed the floor.

"Advance down the corridor. Brian Flanegian has returned to the SH-7 Stealth Chopper, and waits for your arivial. I am now removing the weapons lock on the SH-7."

It suddenly dawned on JC that Daedalus had led them here intentionally for his own purposes. He wasn't sure of whether or not he could call him an extradonairly clever man, or a notorious hacker. Yet...even from the infolink, he could tell that Daedalus weilded alot of power...something not common to your average net terrorist.

He advanced down the corridor and up the stairwell. A door opened to his left.

"Rooftop access is this way, proceed."

JC went down the hall, and came up to a ladder. As he climbed, Daedalus came over the link again. "Helicopters are enroute to the facility. You have only thirty seconds to retrieve the canister before they arrive to investigate."

JC reached the top and scanned the area briefly. He saw what looked like a postage box, and ran over to it. A safe lay inside, with a combination lock. He took out a multitool, and attached it to the lock. It worked for a few seconds, as JC heard the droning of helicopter blades grow closer. It finished the work, and JC was rewarded with a small vial of blue liquid.

"Administer the nanites now, it only takes a standard needle insertion."

JC tapped a button on the right side of the vial, causing a needle to pop out. He inserted said needle into his arm, and tossed the spent vial off the rooftop. He was climbing down the ladder when the helicopters arrived to drop off troops.

"I will leave off from here. Your mission is to locate Tracer Tong."

JC ran down another flight of stairs and was back in the hanger. Jock saw him and lifted the chopper into the air.

"Stand back, missles comin' through!" he said on a loud speaker. Two missles ejected from seperate tubes on the sides of the wings, both impacting a large black door on the far side of the hanger, revealing an elevator. Jock lifted the chopper higher, and was outside now. He could hear the sudden clanking of chain gun rounds, and wild whoops of laughter from Jock.

JC ran through the destroyed door, and into the elevator as MJ-12 soldiers filled the hanger from above. He hit the "down" button, and dodged to the right as several rounds tore into the elevator. The doors shut, dulling the pinging noises the bullets made. He felt the elevator descend, and collapsed on the far side of the elevator, wondering if this was the worst to come.

Authors Note: Long Chapter, eh? I'm glad it's done. Wan Chi Market is next.


	12. Wan Chai Market

Deus Ex: The Conspiracy

Authors Note: FINNALY we're up to Hong Kong! I haven't seen any reviews in awhile though...

Chapter Twelve: Wan Chai Market

Agent Hamond bite his lip apprehensivly, constantly looking back up towards the Hong Kong skyline. More accurately, he was looking for any sings of a disturbance in the air, cheifly around the VersaLife building. He and Agent Jones had been on break, dining at the Loongjing Resturant when the news of an explosion at the helibase ontop of the VersaLife building got out to them. They had sent helicopters, but word from them had yet to have been received.

"Don't worry about it, Hamond. It's probably just an isolated incident." Jones said from behind him. Sanctinomious prick. He was never worried about anything, always carefree and laidback. Hell, he wasn't even wearing the tuxeduo they all had to wear. He even _looked_ stupid.

"Don't give me that. You have to be paranoid in this line of work, you know that." He said, and took a sip of coffee. It tasted horrible. Tea was truly the Chinese's fortee'. He put the cup down and looked back up. Nothing in sight, only a faint trail of smoke. Jones buttered his biscuit and bit into it. He groaned happily, and patted his mouth.

_Asshole._ Hamond thought.

"They make the best biscuits in China." Jones said. He looked over towards several people who were giving him strange looks and simply smiled.

Hamond rolled his eyes and looked out towards the sprawling market around him. Shop owners eagerly stood out towards potential customers speaking in rapid chinese, children went around with envelopes in their hands, or deliveries, trying to make a quick credit, and neon lights of every color down here. It was truly a marvel of modern architecture that such a place could be built, and all of it was under croppings of business buildings. The Buddhist temple lay on the far side of a magnificent plaza.

Naturally the place was a maze, excruciatingly difficult to get around in, which was why the Luminous Path compound was so hard to find. Hamond and Jones weren't actually on break, per se, they were actually keeping an eye out for any clues as to the location of the base. The Lum's used to operate in the open, working in a now condemned building near the elevator, but when MJ-12 started working with the Red Arrow's they decided to conceal themselves. Nevertheless, they still carried considerable influence in the area, and most of the market, and canal were under their control. The business sector above the market though, that was controled by the Red Arrow, and by extension, Majestic Twelve. The Luminous Path were smugglers and "for the people" which was why the market goers were so taken with them, and the Red Arrow handled the capitalistic aspects of the city.

Both were on oposite ends of the criminal spectrum, and both hated each others guts. A hatred that had already resulted in staggering lose of civilian life, but more importantly, a chance for MJ-12 to make a grab for Hong Kong, and make a ton of money in the process.

Hamond looked around the tea house. A Red Arrow member was arguing with the owner of the place, but he didn't seem to be having any luck "recruiting" him. The only person who wanted anything to do with the Red's was the newspaper seller, and already the Lum's had tried to muscle her into their organization three times.

He sighed unhappily, and checked his platinum watch. Twenty minutes before they started their next questioning session. Not that it would have any positive effects, he'd done this everyday for the last two months and no one had ever given him so much as a clue to the location of the compound. Jones seemed to recognize the look of exhasperation of his face and gave a mocking frown. "Don't worry, maybe today will be a bit more exciting."

"You say that everyday." He had to be the most idiotic agent ever created. He wondered vaguely what the scientists put into _his_ test tube.

"Hey, JC Denton escaped yesterday, maybe he's coming here." he said, taking his first look up at the VersaLife building. He frowned when he saw the smoke.

"What are the chances of THAT happening?"

Jones gazed past him and stared there for a long moment. His eyes focused, and his smile dissapeared.

"Very good." he said.

Hamond turned his head and felt his heart rate accelerate. JC Denton was walking out from the elevator checkpoint of the VersaLife building, without any idea of who was watching.

* * *

JC walked out from the elevator checkpoint and did his best to seem like any other ordinary tourist. He silently willed himself to stop looking left and right to see if anyone had heard him dispatch the two security guards that now lay hidden in the security locker at the checkpoint. At that thought, he wondered if they had been with MJ-12, or simple security guards doing their jobs. Either way, they had pulled guns on him, and he was forced to use lethal action.

Getting out had gone by without a hitch, excluding having to kill the security guards, but he was still shaken by his narrow escape. Another moment longer and troopers from above would have converged on him, and even his ballistic sheilding wouldn't do much under such punishment. He looked up to see smoke and flames, and other people around him were mesmerized with curiosity. It was probably smoke from the helicopters Jock shot down, but reports of a "bombing" would certainly make the news, albeit highly censored.

JC took in the sprawling market around him and frowned. It was humongous, which was to be expected, but he was still annoyed that its size would make it that much more difficult to find Tracer Tong. He sighed.

_At this rate your killswitch will reach zero before you even start questioning._ He told himself. _Get moving._

JC looked around the immediate part of the market he was in. Countless Chinese denizens, even more tourists, and shopkeepers all around. Remembering Jordan Shea, he decided to start with shopkeepers.

He approached a fruit stand, and pretended to look at some apples and pears. He kept his ears perked to several customers, hoping to eavesdrop on other customers. Mostly talk of prices, or small talk. He waited for a couple of minutes, waiting for the area to clear. The propreitor gave him a queer look, and coughed.

JC actually found himself longing for some food, so he payed two credits for an apple, and bit into it. It was delicious. He turned back to the shop keeper, waited for the bits of apple to go down, and leaned forward and spoke in a small conspiratorial tone: "Any idea where one could find Tracer Tong?"

The shop keeper smiled, and chuckled a little. He then spoke in perfect english, which took JC by surprise for a moment, before remembering the language perception nanites. He vaguely wondered how they worked. He would have to ask Jaime. "You're one of those guys in the tuxeduos, hm? You certainly seem to have different tastes." he said, regarding his trench coat.

JC rolled his eyes and turned from the shop keep, leaning on the table he kept his products on. "Just answer the question."

"I wouldn't know." he said simply. He paused for a moment,"Oh great, here come your friends, tell them to leave me alone with the gestapo crap, huh?"

JC opened his eyes instantly and saw two MIB's approaching him. Upon seeing them, he chuckled out loud, a disturbing thing to witness when one doesn't have the ability to smile. One of them was wearing carefree shorts and a tee shirt, it was just too priceless when one knew they're...abrasive manner. The shop keep groaned and went to another customer.

JC instantly got a hold of himself, it was very rare that such things made him react like that. He had to move. He quickly threw out the core of the apple, and walked away from the stall calmly. The MIB's probably knew that he had spotted them, so when he looked back he saw that they had quickened their pace.

_Think, think! You need a back door..._ There were endless amounts of shops or resturants he could dive into, but they could easily relocate him. No, he would have to lose them, or lead them into a trap where he could take them both out. He made a right into what looked like the upper class part of the market, and was quickly taken into a crowd of tourists, marveling at the sights of the resturants, ancients statues that were on display, or the Buddist Temple at the far side of the plaza. JC noted that most of the market was actually underneath a giant office building, but this part was out in the open, revealing a sunny day above. It felt so strange to see the sun now.

He couldn't see his purserers any longer, so he relaxed just a hair. He saw a sign that said "Wan Chai Teahouse", still in chinese...the nanites were probably affecting his visual perception as well, and weaved through the crowd towards it. He climbed a set of stairs, and quickly took a seat at which he would have a good view of the plazza.

He scanned the crowds, and spotted the MIB's at the far end, consulting with a Military Police officer. The police man held his hand out, apparently asking for some...incentive. JC had heard stories about the corruption among the military in China, but now it was apparent that all of them had been _trained_ to demand bribes. The MIB's showed that they did not have the amount he was asking for, and were promptly waved along. The MIB's spoke leaned forward to each other, and both of them went off in different directions. He silently thanked the corrupted officer, and turned back to the resturant in time to receive a menu. He browsed through the different items, silently demanding everything he looked at, and settled on tea and a slice of ham.

The waiter took the menu, and went off to deliver his order. JC looked back out, looking for the two MIB's. He saw one at the far end of the plaza, but found that he couldn't locate the other...

A man walked into the resturant, looked around, and set his sights on the owner of the place, who was walking around, greeting customers. He tapped him on the shoulder and brought him near JC's table.

"As you know, we've been having some...difficulties in hiring protection."

"No, get out." the manager quickly said.

"Do you want to do business in Wan Chai?" the man said.

"I already have an arrangement with the Luminous Path." he said with a small smile.

"Do you want to do BUSINESS in Wan Chai!" the man suddenly roared. Everyone else in the resturant looked over.

"Get out, now!"

"Don't think the Luminous Path can protect you!" he yelled loudly.

"I will not be threatened!"

"As you wish...but don't be surprised if we visit you again."

With that, the man left, sending evil looks to the manager on his way down. JC beckoned for the manager to come over. He leaned forward and whispered: "Who was that?"

"The Red Arrow." he sighed. "They've been trying to get me into their cause for weeks now. Are you a tourist?"

"You can say that." JC said.

"They've been having a power struggle over this stupid piece of sword technology, self sharpening, or something. I wish they would use it to chop off each others heads." he said savagely.

"Nano-tech?"JC asked. This was news to him.

"Yeah, VersaLife. They talk about traditions and honor, and then they go around shooting at each other with Uzi's. Things never change."

"How long have the Triads been fighting for?" It was all starting to come back to him, now. His course on Organized Crime back at the academy was begining to assert itself. There were two major Triads in Hong Kong as of late. The Triads were like the Mafia to the Americans, the Yakuza to the Japanese, and the Russian Mob to the Russians. All of it was organized crime. The Luminous Path were big time smugglers, but more into religion, while the Red Arrow was into big time business like casinos, nightclubs, and resturants, but were far more violent then the Luminous Path. If on a mission to Hong Kong, agents were generally advised to play out one side for information, while striking blows to the other. Such tactics might come in handy here.

"Oh, about two months now."

"Hmm...Okay, thanks." JC said.

"Not a problem, it's always nice to vent. Your meal will be here shortly." the manager said.

"Thank you."

The manager left, leaving JC in deep thought. Tracer Tong was a big man in Hong Kong, so it was likely that he was involved with one of the Triads. He wished Paul was here. He had come into contact with Tong many times, it seemed.

A waiter brought his food over, and JC tipped him with a few credits. After this, he frowned, and checked his credit chit card. One thousand nine hundred and eighty nine credits left. He hadn't lost alot, but he wanted to be sparing. He decided that he would leave without paying. He forked the large slice of ham, and ploped some into his mouth. Again, delicious. It had been so long since he could eat great food, that he'd nearly forgotten how such things tasted. He took his time with it, but kept a close eye on the plazza in case the MIB's arrived. He finished the ham, and looked around the resturant. No one was looking. Without a second glance, he calmly picked up his tea, and left the resturant.

When he was a number of yards away, he glanced back at the resturant. No commotion. He let himself relax, and started at his tea, being careful not to bump into anyone. He decided he would go back towards the closed in part of the market, to continue his questioning.

* * *

Vixen glanced to the side nervously as Agent Zack circled around her. They had already questioned Janice Reed, Newman, and Corporal Collins, now it was time for her. She had a feeling that Zack was gonna have the most fun with her out of all the others. He was a skilled torture artist, if you could call it an art form, but he wouldn't have much use for his skills in pure questioning. Nevertheless, he would be assertive. She figured she deserved it, as she had cost her team of six commandos their lives, and had only one killed NSF agent to show for it, and a boat load of transgenics.

The powers of JC Denton...she had failed to give the technologies that went into his creation the time of the day, but now she was deeply frightened of them, although she was a bit curious now. She would never take him out in a full on assault...no, she had to put her stealth training to work. Of course, this was assuming that MJ-12 didn't demote her for her outstanding failure.

The entire UNATCO situation was a complete and total disaster. Manderley was dead as well as Agent Navarre, Jaime, Alex and Shannon had gone AWOL, Mr. Moreau and a few prisoners had escaped from the MJ-12 facility including Paul and JC Denton, and to top it all off, half a dozen troopers were dead. She was one of the few people to have survived the break out, and they had questioned them relentlessly. Collins was shell shocked, constantly breaking down in tears over the whole ordeal, Janice wasn't much better, and Newman was only wondering where Shannon had gone. So they were relying on her to relay important info.

"I'll start with some easy questions." Zack declared. "How many fugitives did you encounter, in all?"

"Just one."

"Denton junior, I assume."

"That's right."

"Right. So you have no idea of his motives, his destination, or the threat he poses."

"I can answer the last one."

"Go ahead."

"He managed to kill three commandos in under two minutes, that's saying alot about his strength."

"I meant politically." Zack sighed.

"Oh." she said.

Zack couldn't think of much else to say, so he began to pace around the room again.

"What's going to happen to me?"

"Chances are you'll be demoted, our organization does not condone failure."

V sat quietly, knowing that she'd probably be dead by next week. He allowed her to brood a bit before opening his mouth to speak. At that moment another MIB entered the room.

"Yes, what is it?" Zack said.

"I've come to collect Agent Vixen." the MIB said.

"Oh?" Zack said with a hint of disapointment in his voice.

The MIB turned to V and motioned for her to follow him. They left Agent Zack inside the room, and walked down the steel lined halls of the Washington D.C. facility. The MIB gave her a list of files, and she saw the Denton brothers files at the top. The next ones contained Erin O'Reily, Miguel Astoso, Dr. Moreau, and Decker Parkes.

"What-" she began.

"We just got word that Denton is confirmed at Hong Kong. He was sighted by Agents Hamond and Jones, and he's responsible for a bombing in the VersaLife building at the Wan Chai district. "

"That's great and all that you know where he's at, but how does this apply to me?"

"We're sending you to deal with him." he said as they walked past a few stasis tubes with Grays in them. "Mr. Page is willing to overlook your failure to apprehend him at the Liberty Island facility simply because there aren't enough competent agents to go around."

"What about Agent Hermann?"

"He's...being breifed on the matter. Finding out about our organization." he said bluntly. "We're sending you in first, you'll be reporting to Walton Simons via holo link when you get there. Don't screw up this time, you're chopper leaves in two hours. I'll leave you to prepare."

With that, he took another hallway, and strolled away.Vixen stood by herself in the hall. She was thoroughly surprised that they had given her another chance. But even moreso...she was elated. She wanted revenge.

* * *

"I'm sorry, I don't know anything about this...Tracer Tong." the china saleswoman said. She looked away, embarrassed.

_She knows of him, she just won't tell me..._JC thought, this being his only thought for awhile now. Many of the salespeople had simply told him to either buzz off, or politely told him they didn't know. Either way, they were hiding something.

He sighed and started for the newspaper saleswoman, but she was busy with a group of Liberalist lecturers who were raving at her about the evils of communism, which she apparently condoned. He simply borrowed a newspaper, and looked through it while leaning against a wooden support beam. He looked through it breifly. No articles about the UNATCO prision break yet. He put the paper down, and tapped his foot.

He waited another ten minutes, and decided that the lecturers were only just getting started, so he walked over to a nearby coffee shop. He had already stolen a few things from the various places he'd visited, mostly credits or food. He was going to have to get used to acting like a common theif. He felt nothing when he clamly picked up a small box of bagels, and hid it within his trench coat. He sat down at a table, and waited for the line to grow smaller. It was getting rather late, four hours after arriving in Wan Chai. Jock had called him up twenty minutes after his encounter with the MIBs, and told him that he was clear of detection, followed shortly by a "motivational" call from Daedalus, telling him that it was imperative that he find Tong.

He sighed, and looked back over towards the line. Only two people left. He looked back outside, and saw that the crowds were begining to thin out. He got up and walked over to the line, putting his hands in his pockets. He felt both grenades and ammo in them. The feeling was uncomfortable, so he laid his hands to his sides.

At that moment two large hands grasped his shoulders, and he knew that they had found him. He spun out of their reach, catching a glimpse of a flaberghasted MIB, and vaulted over the red wired line. A woman back in the coffee shop screamed as he heard a gun being pulled from its holster. He managed to pass the corner as a pistol roared, and he _felt_ a gust of wind as the bullet barely missed him. Now people all around him were screaming. The MIB chased him around the corner, poping off shots when available. JC risked a look back and saw that he was delighted with the chase. He must of been bored before he had come to Hong Kong. JC rounded another corner and contemplated taking out his weapon.

_No, you don't want anyone getting caught in the cross fire._ he decided. He would take out a weapon when there were no bystanders around. JC hid in the shadows, waiting for the MIB to pass. When he did, JC bashed him in the back of the head, causing the mech to waver around breifly. JC took this oporutunity to run for it. He was about to make it past the newspaper stand when the MIB with casual clothes came around and cocked the gun at him. JC skidded to a halt and ducked as a bullet whized by. He activated microfibirial muscle and charged the mech, sending him a few yards away. The Lecturers from before all screamed and scampered off in different directions while the saleswoman ducked into her stall. JC turned and saw the other MIB closing in on him, so he started off again, going in the direction of the plaza.

He passed a video store, and quickly threw down an advertisment filled with holo videos, sending the small cartridges skidding to the floor. The MIB came around and instantly slipped on the devices. He cursed loudly at JC, and clawed his way back up. JC continued running, and was soon inside the plaza. There were only bums around now, and the place looked so different at this hour, no crowds, all the stores were closed...everything. He continued off into the middle of the square when the two MIB's came around. JC removed his trench coat in a flurry of wind and picked up his sniper rifle with his other hand. The trench coat settled to the ground, weighed down by all the guns and ammunition.

He placed the scope to his eyes, and the two MIB's quickly went off in different directions. JC aimed at the one with the care free clothes and fired. The round missed him by a hair. He aimed again, and fired. Again, he missed. JC cursed his inexperiance with rifles, and quickly got back up. The MIB on the right held his pistol to bear and fired twice. JC dived to avoid the first one, but was his in the shoulder by the second round. He gave out a low scream and rolled to the ground, activating his regenative nanites. The nanites pushed the spent shell out of the hollow hole it had created, realigned the broken blood vessels it had ruptured, and cleaned the wound. After that, it sealed up. JC got back up and ran forward to meet the MIB on the left. When they seemed to be on the verge of collision, he kicked his legs out from underneath him and sent a punch to his stomach. He took out his magnum and brought it to bear with his head.

At that moment a whistle blew at the far side of the plazza. Two Chinese Military policeman were running toward them with assault rifles at their hips. They didn't wait to ask questions, and quickly opened fire. JC activated his speed aug and backflipped out of the way of the oncoming rounds as the MIB got back up and stood in his place dumbly. The bullets jackhammered into him, and he fell to the ground with a screech of pain.

The policemen got there a second later, just in time for his body to shatter, tossing their bodies away like ragdolls.

* * *

Agent Hamond stood in cover as Jones bit the bullet.

_Well, exploded is more accurate, and far more satisfying..._he thought with a satisfied smile. God, this was too good to be true. He couldn't believe the prick was actually dead. He couldn't stop smiling. And he'd also been nice enough to deal with those two officers...Now all that was left was Denton, and he was probably a mile away or so. He peaked his head out, and back into cover as a sniper round whizzed by his face. He laughed, loudly so Denton could hear him.

"I must say, thanks for taking him out!" Hamond announced.

"You can thank those police officers dead bodies!" Denton shouted back.

"When I'm through with you, Denton!"

With that, he sprinted over to the next shop, avoiding two sniper rounds. He crept over to the other side, and looked back over. Denton was in plain sight, reloading. Still smiling, he raised his pistol magnum and fired.

* * *

JC used his sniper rifle to deflect the bullet, and aimed at the MIB again. He fired, but of course the MIB dodged and hid again. JC breathed in and out, slowly. He had expected the man to take the bait, and he was glad that he managed to deflect the bullet. JC ran over to the next building, and went up a maintenance ladder. He came up to a small roof, and looked over to the other side and managed to spy the MIB's leg going into the shop directly across from him.

JC crouched, and held the rifle to his head, and waited patiently. This was one of the first time's hed ever used a sniper rifle extensivly. He was pretty bad with long range combat, prefering automatic weapons, pistols and meele. He wished he had a drug that would keep his hands steady. He spied a pack of cigarettes at the far end of the railing, and rolled over to it. He took out a small packet of matches, and took out one of the cigarettes. He had tried smoking before, back at the academy, but he had hated the taste of them. Nevertheless, he lit one up and took a long drag from it, then he quickly stamped it out. It tasted horrible, but it calmed his nerves, and made his hands steadier.

He looked through the scope, his aim unwavering now, and waited. The taste in his mouth lingered, but he didn't want to risk doing anything superficial until he had taken care of the MIB. As if on cue, a shot rang out, and he instinctivly rolled to the side. Another sounded, and he repeated the process until they stopped. He lay on the ground for a long while before poking his head up again. The MIB was dodging in and out of cover, behind statues and dumpsters, getting closer to JC. He had not seen him yet.

JC held the rifle out, and took aim. He set his sights on the MIB's head just as he realized that he was being marked. JC fired, and was rewarded with a direct hit to the head. The MIB exploded instantly, and JC sighed in relief. He heard cars coming in from far away, and he decided to set back out for the market as quickly as possible. He wanted to sleep, but couldn't find any adequete spots. He certainly didn't want to sleep out in the street, but there was no where else to go. As he entered the market again, e saw the people looking around, looking shell shocked. He simply nodded off to them, and sat down at a bench near the newspaper lady.

"Quite exciting, yes?" she asked him eagerly.

"I saw..."

"Yes, the man ran from them like lightning! Oh...I will be interviewed, I was a witness after all! Did you see what happened?"

"Yeah, he killed them."

"Ohhhhh excellent," she wrote it down on a notepad. "Yes, yes. Great story, how much do you want for me to steal it?"

JC laughed, "You're rather blunt."

"How much!" she asked impatiently.

"Tell me how to find Tracer Tong, and I won't say anything."

"Oh...well...yeah, I don't know where he is, but the woman from the video store does. Just tell her that "Our worlds are one", a phrase I learned from this funny man with a black suit!" She certanly liked to ramble.

"Yeah, thanks." JC got up and left. He was finnaly on the right track, proving to him that anyone could be bought off with the right kind of "payment." He rounded the corner as two military policemen raced by. Already he was becoming a celebrity in Hong Kong, and no one even knew it was him.

He came into the video store, and saw a woman in a blue suit. He went up to her, and asked her if she was the manager. She said yes, and he relayed the code phrase. She frowned, "Ohh...can it wait? It's awfully late."

"No, it really can't." JC said.

"Oh, fine." she went into the back room, and stayed there for a few minutes. JC spent the time looking at videos, and looking out occasionly to see police officers running by. The woman came back out, and breathed in. "They'll send a representative for you soon, but first you must rent a room at the Kings Tower Hotel, across from the Queens Tower Apartment building. Rent room 502, and be sure to say 'Our worlds are one.', so the receptionist won't ask any questions. The business district is across from the market, seperated by the canal, a sampam should do in a pinch. Watch out in the canal though...it's disbuted territory. The business district is Red Arrow."

"Tracer Tong is with the Luminous Path?" JC asked.

"Yeah...don't you know? However, he does not deal with people he does not trust, so wait for this messenger. He will give you the details on what you're supposed to do to earn Mr. Tong's trust."

"When will this...messenger meet me?"

"Tommorow morning."

He still had twenty two hours left on his killswitch..."Alright..."

"They told me to buzz off when I patched in, but then I told them that you looked alot like Paul." she said. She opened her mouth to explain as JC cut her off.

"I should; he's my brother." JC said.

She smiled at him, and walked away.

* * *

Dentons image shimmered through a holographic camera feed. He watched the informant go, and he walked out of the video store.

If she was correct about her observations, they would send him to meet with her, probably to find that _her_ sword. She had plans for this, but it would have to be within the elements of surprise. Yes...she would send a group of assassins to the hotel...disguised as room service. She smiled, fancying herself a brilliant strategist. If her assassins failed, she would simply try again. But she lived by a three chance rule. If _they_ failed...

She would deal with him herself.

Authors Note: Hope you enjoyed, next chapter will be out (hopefully) soon.


	13. Tonnochi Road and the Canal

**_Deus Ex: The Conspiracy_**

Authors Note: For some conversations I couldn't find the text files(why anyone would spend more time on the Lucky Money customer scripts then anything else is beyond me.)so I improvised / BTW, I'm do NOT personally discriminate against gays, lesbians, or anything of the sort. I love everything )...Well, not everything but-you get what I mean.

Chapter Thirteen: Tonnochi Road and the Canal

JC walked out into the darkness of the canal, and almost instantly regreted it. The place was that of every law abiding persons nightmare. There were little lights, next to no people, the water looked deep, and the people that were there all sent hostile looks. But JC wasn't worried about any of those things. The place was apparently disputed territory among the triads, so essentially he was walking into a place that could blossom into a war zone at any given moment. He would have to stay clear of any triads.

To his right was a small back alley, in which two men in leather jackets were doing "business."To his left was a small staircase, lined with small flower pots leading up to a seedy looking bar called "Old China Hand." He supposed that this place looked buetiful in daylight hours, but the closed up shops, and hostile denizens ruined the spell. In front of him lay two Chinese Police, but JC was seperated from them by a destroyed bridge. It looked like it had taken a gep round to the foundation. One of them rolled their eyes and gestured for him to go across by means of another bridge, near the bar.

_I can make the jump easily, but these guys look like they would shoot anything out of the ordinary._ JC thought. He knew he was right as well; the Chinese trained their military to shoot anything that moved that wasn't Chinese, rules that applied on the battlefield only, but it looked as if they were having a hard time coping with the tourism.

JC decided on going into the bar first, to probe for any information that could be useful. He passed a closed television store, but it's tv's were still running the news. The plaza showdown was already the top story, and they were looking for the fugitive now. MJ-12 had to know where he was by now...the MIB's would have contacted their masters, no doubt. JC went on to the bar, and opened a flimsy wood door.

The bar was filled to capacity with drunks, shady strangers, and hookers all around. JC took a seat at the right of the bar, closest to the door, and settled into a creaking chair. A fat bar fly eyed him, and winked. JC groaned and looked in the other direction, towards the rear end of the bar. Five people sat in the back, two at one table, the rest spread out. They all seemed rather normal, except for one guy. He was wearing a long black trench coat, along with very thick sunglasses. If he was trying to seem inconspicious, he was doing a horrible job. But it wasn't his attire that made him stand out to JC(although it helped greatly), the man was staring at him, and constantly made motions for him to come over.

JC flicked two fingers at him; no, YOU come. The man sighed, got up from his table, and strolled over to JC's. He sat down on the far end, and whispered to him. "Paul Denton, I have the blueprints, I-" he got a better look at JC's face and nearly jumped out of his seat. "Oh!"

JC frowned and grabbed the mans coat as he got up, forcing him back down, "Paul's my brother, what's the problem?"

"No, they would kill me." the man protested. He attempted to exit the bar again. JC grabbed him, more violently this time and seated him into the chair. "Please! They'll kill me!" Several people looked over.

JC leaned forward, and spoke into his ear. "You might as well tell me the rest, if I'm gonna kill you, you're already dead."

The man let out what sounded like a constipated sob, and settled back down. "He p-payed me, ok? Blue prints for the VersaLife building, scrambler grenades, and thermoptic camo."

"What would Paul want with VersaLife?" A statement more than a question.

"I don't know," the man said. "He helped me out with Triad business a few months ago, I said I was in his debt. He made me do this for him. You must pay, if you want them."

JC pulled out his magnum, and clicked the safty off. "How about you walk out of here with your life, and me with that hardware; free of charge."

The man let out a pained sigh, and handed over a large package from the depths of his coat. "Don't let anyone see you with them...I knew I wouldn't get payed for this..." the man mumbled. He got up, and hesitated, afraid of being dragged down again. JC waved his hand dismissivly, and the man left quickly with another groan.

JC met the stares of the people around him and raised his eye brows. They went back what they were doing. JC picked at the knot that held the package together, and took out his combat knife quietly. He sliced the knot in half, and the package fell apart. The blue prints the man had spoken of was the first thing JC had seen, he took a glance at it, and looked at the other contents. Next he saw the thermoptic camo, a vest one would wear around their torso, and a useful tool for espionage, as it refracted light beams away from the user, rendering said user completely invisible. Next lay the scrambler grenades. He sliped the thermoptic camo around his chest, and looked down at the on/off switch, noting its location at the right side of the vest. Then he pocketed the rest of the items.

JC moved to the front of the bar and asked the bartender for a wine. The man smiled and went into the back of the bar to prepare it. A man shambled up next to him and groaned loudly, to get his attention. JC looked over and frowned. "I'm sorry?"

"I know you...I know who you are..."

JC stayed silent, wondering where this could be going.

"You were smart to leave Hong Kong when you did...got out just in time...But now you have returned..."

JC's thoughts turned to his brother...but what could this man know of Paul? "You have me confused with someone-"

"Don't play these tricks with...me..." the man lurched and looked around with a goofy grin. JC sniffed, and smelled whiskey. The man was drunk out of his mind. "You cannot escape the Red Arrow!" People began to look over again.

JC sent a look that silenced any whisperings that were going on over there. The man sighed, and got up from his stool, "You will not leave Hong Kong alive." He walked out of the bar with a triumphant laugh. JC was suddenly not in the mood for a drink. He got up and left the bar. He had to get to the Kings Hotel before he had anymore encounters like that.

He came out to a dock filled with sampans, deserted of course as it was after the hours the owners usually went out for business. However, he did see two active boats in the distance, their owners looking back and forth apprehensivly at him.

_Smugglers._ JC thought. He had heard it was becoming a lucrative business in the seedy parts of the city, and he could see why. He walked on, and casted a small gaze into the murky water. He was hardly prepared for what he saw. A large dark shape moved slowly through the depths, looked almost like a large reptile. For some reason, JC's thoughts turned instantly to things like the loch ness monster, or Champ, but since when were there things like that in the canals of Hong Kong? JC crouched next to the water, and looked down. He considered going down there after it, but discarded this train of thought when he realized what this thing was. It was an adult karkian, one of Majestic Twelve's many experimentations.

When the matter of what the thing was had been solved, questions of how it had come to be there instantly took its place. JC instinctivly looked up at the VersaLife building in the distance(the smoke was gone now), but soon abandonded that insinuation. VersaLife was a pharmacuetical company, they worked on vaccinations and nano research.

_Nano research..._JC thought suddenly. They WERE the ones who had manufactured Ambrosia...what reason would one think that they didn't conduct biological weapon research for MJ-12? It was certainly possible that the conspirators had the pharmacuetical giant in their grasp. But be that as it may, it didn't exactly solve the question on how the large reptile had come to be in the canal. By now the karkian was well out of plain sight, but it lingered inside JC's mind.

An outbreak at one of the labs? If so, then how many of the creatures were wandering the streets of Hong Kong? This line of thought suddenly turned JCs mind to a newspaper he had read two days earlier...a life time ago, at best. One of the articles was on the increasing disapearences of people in Hell's Kitchen, and an eye witness report from a bum. The bum in question had told reporters that "it looked like a big ol' rat." It occured to JC that the man had seen a transgenic...and now he himself had encountered one of the beasts in Hong Kong. Something wasn't right.

JC sighed, and got back up with a small groan. His back felt like plywood. That was strange...he hadn't had any problems with his back for as long as he could remember. Watched. He felt like he was being watched. He spun around, looking for his observer, but saw none. Paranoia crept on him, slithering into his mind like a malevolent serpent. His feelings from his time at the school in Switzerland were coming back to him...He had to get out of there. He walked calmly over a small bridge spanning a thin section of the canal, and couldn't resist a look downward. He saw only water, and some garbage floating around. It was begining to feel like insomnia.

_What the hell is going on?_ JC thought. He resisted the temptation of holding his hands to his forehead, and to cry out in pain. Suddenly he felt a stinging sensation in his neck. He layed a hand on it, and found what felt like a thin, narrow dart. He hadn't even felt it...of course he hadn't felt it, modern tranqulizers emited particles that would float around the arrow head. These particles were designed to instantly numb the part of the body the dart was about to hit, before it even touched the skin. The ultimate form of tracking devices and silent take downs. He dug the arrow out from his neck, and felt blood cloting there. He stared down at the dart and tossed it away. His feelings of paranoia and insomnia slowly drained.

Even with the dart gone, JC still felt watched, and knew it as well. Was it the drunkard from the bar? Was he trying to get JC into a position where he could dart him? It made more sense than JC would of liked to admit, and the fact that the man had known of his brother left many other posibilities closed off. He heard the sound of footsteps behind him, and quickly turned to meet them. A woman in a tight skirt looked at him with lust in her eyes. JC rolled his eyes and waved her along. She complied with a dissapointed sigh. JC continued on his way towards an active sampan port.

He walked on for a few minutes, before pausing to consult a nearby sign. It told him that he was only a block away from the sampan port, and to have his credits ready. As he turned to continue on his way, however, his vision flashed red. At first he panicked, thinking he had been shot and his eyes were misting red with blood. He quickly abandoned that as he felt no pain whatsoever, and he realized that the red was flashing, almost like a laser pointer-

_Laser sight! GET DOWN!_

JC let himself fall to the ground as a bullet whized by. He rolled underneath a dumpster, and waited, carefully controling his breathing. He waited for five minutes, seeing no black boots step into view, no sudden appearence of an assassins face in his eyes, and no grenade being rolled into the cranny he had ducked into. He shot a hand out into plain view and let it rest there for a moment. The laser sight instantly returned, and a bullet flew by as he brought his hand back to safty.

_Patient little son of a bitch._ JC thought darkly. How was he getting out of _this_ one? The assassin was patient, that much was certain, he probably wouldn't leave his spot until he had killed him. He would have to make a distraction. He looked around the small area he had confined himself to. There were little things all around, but he concentrated on finding things like cans or bins. JC collected two cans of nuke soda, and kept them close by. Now he had to find out what kind of rifle the assaliant was using. If it was bolt action, he was in luck, but if it was automatic...He tossed the first can outside, and the laser sight found it easily, and a bullet tore into the metal of the can. Two seconds passed, and another shot penetrated the can. It was bolt action...

JC closed his eyes tight, and took out his assault gun. He rolled the can out, and a heard a round tear into it. He rolled out into view with his assault gun pointed in the direction the shots were coming from. He let off a dozen rounds in the assassins direction, and quickly ran in his direction. After a few moments of running, the laser sight returned, and JC held the assault gun up in it's direction. A bullet pinged into its surface. JC advanced a few more feet, and dove back into cover behind a large bulletin board. He heard the rushing of footsteps. He was trying to get into a better position. JC shot a look out, and saw a man in a black jumpsuit rushing towards a street sign where he could get a good shot. JC tossed the assault gun away and brought up his magnum. He took a careful second to aim, and fired as the man was about to reach his cover.

The shot pierced the mans sniper rifle, ruining the bolt mechanism, rendering the weapon useless. The assaliant cursed and skidded into cover behind the street sign. JC held his aim, and waited a full minute before moving to the other side of the bulletin board. He peeked over and back away as a bullet whizzed by. The man had another gun...JC activated his speed augmentation and jumped up to the top of board. The seemingly impossible move caught the assassin by surprise, rewarding JC with a loud gasp of desbelif. JC half aimed the magnum again and fired. The shot missed his prefered target; the leg, and instead it penetrated his stomach, causing it to explode violently.

JC picked up the assault gun and ascended up a nearby set of stairs to reach him. He wanted to question the little bastard. When he reached him, most of the mans stomach contents had already cascaded onto the wooden floor, leaving him very much dead. JC cursed and started to search the body, he looked around the mans fatal wound, and only found a bullet cases in plain sight in his stomach. JC vomited at the sight, but quickly rejuvenated and continued his search. He tossed the sniper rifle into the canal, and turned the body over. A small piece of paper lay in his back pocket. He unfolded it, and began to read.

_Dear Mr. Tang 9/3/52_

_Your contract request on JC Denton(D-02) has been confirmed and acknowledged. A photograph of the subject has been provided in the file we forwarded to you along with this letter. Payment if alive is 20,000 credits, payment if dead is 40,000 credits. Yes, you read that last part right. Your current position is a fortunate one, as we believe the subject will be traveling to either Paris or Hong Kong, most likely Hong Kong to search for a man known as Tracer Tong. A bonus 15,000 credits will be provided for the location of Tong. Also, be aware that other mercenaries such as yourself have been sent on this mission, so expect competition. Use whatever means neccesary to apprehend Denton_

_Walton Simons, Director of FEMA._

Simons personality showed in every way possible; he was cold, calculating even when writing to someone. JC checked the date of the letter. Written yesterday, not long after the UNATCO prision break most likely. Simons was obviously not one to waste time.

JC searched the rest of Tang's body, and turned up a datacube. He activated it, and the holographic message spiraled in front of him.

_I saw that guy you want to kill outside of Old China Hand, probably thought I was a hooker. He went in the direction of the sampan port. I'd better get payed good for this, like you promised, right? BTW, I enjoyed last night ;) Lets do it again some time._

_Love ya, Cho_

The woman from the bridge...Nothing was making sense to JC anymore. He had come to Hong Kong expected salvation, but it had only proved to be a death trap thus far. He turned from the body, half expecting to see a black suited commando standing in front of him with a rocket launcher in tow. Of course he saw no such thing, but as he walked, he kept on fooling himself into believing such things were behind every corner. It helped him stay on his toes.

* * *

The office was dark, revealing no features about the interior decoration to a casual passerby, but Walton Simons knew it inside and out. He could probably find his favorite pack of cigarettes in pitch black darkness, through the myraid series of drawers in his desk. The office was not completely black though, although he wanted to keep it that way(he found the darkness soothing, especially when alone.). Light shown from two locations. His three monitered computer, which casted an errie blue glow across the backdrop of the room, and the light flame of his cigarettes. He flicked the spent butt into the ashtray(now overfilled, as it always was)and opened up a new pack fluidly. He seized the nearest cigarette and light it with his other hand. He took a long drag, and continued on his letter. 

_Dear Mrs. Berry_

_We solemnly regret to inform you that your husband, First Class Sergeant Micheal F. Berry was killed in the line of duty yesterday in a tragic prision break at UNATCO H.Q. We at UNATCO offer the deepest condolences to you and his family. Please accept a compensation of 20,000 credits courtesy of FEMA. Again, we offer the deepest regret in having to inform you of this tragedy. Take comfort in the knowledge that the ones who did this will be brought to justice. _

_Walton Simons, Director of FEMA._

Walton pressed "send now" and started on the next letter, to Scott O'Harra's...husband. Walton would of smirked at the thought, but of course was unable to do so. Scott was the first homosexual anti terrorist to be accepted into the UNATCO foray, under heavy protest from Manderley. Walton himself had defended the right for his acceptance, if only for better relations with the European branch of the United Nations. It made him look better in the eyes of the United States congress, and President Mead for that matter. He was libertarian, but such titles hardly matter anymore in this day and age.

Anyway, in the end he was accepted into the academy, and no one had heard anything of it, except for the occasional jeering from his colleagues. Manderley had sabotagued his efforts to become a lieutenant , a status that would of sent him to Europe for training, and inadvertantly saving Scott from certain death. Now Walton was stuck writing a letter to the fag's lover, and he blamed it all on Manderley. He would of liked to have done it himself, sneaking into Manderleys villa while the bastard slept... with a silenced assault gun, but Denton had beaten him to it. It had been so long since he had experianced operations.

Reflecting back on the conversation he'd had with Denton just yesterday in the rec room, he couldn't help but agree. He DID work behind a desk most of the time, and it infuriated him. He hated taking orders from Page, hated being told by his overzealous receptionist that all combat operations were taken by professionals, he was the first nano augmented man EVER created for chrisake, and MJ-12's enemies were stretched out far and wide! Instead he was now reduced to _telling_ people to assasinate this guy, or kill that guy, or sabotage that airplane when he yearned to do it himself. The only thrill he'd had in the last _month_ was killing the two NSF prisoners, and watching Denton shoot that prick Manderley in the head. It would all change soon. JC Denton was the hit on everyones list, and all combat ready personal wanted to take a shot. Right now it was Agent Vixen, given another chance by Bob Page, who was too lazy to simply lay her off and send an assassin to kill her as she walked out the door.

At the same time, Walton had sent letters to all the well known mercenaries about the escape, offering rewards, setting parameters and all that. And now that they knew that Denton was in Hong Kong, the vice would slowly tighten. He finished up the letter to O'Harras lover, and closed out of the computer, cracking his knuckles. Yes...he wouldn't last much longer there.

Walton got up from his desk and strolled over to the holo-uplink. He was due for a meeting with all the high ranking MJ-12 personal; the Council of Twelve. He activated the holo pad and waited patiently for it to establish an uplink with the location the meeting would be transmitting to, and simutaneously load the image data to his pad. It took all of ten seconds before a long blue image appeared before him. It appeared to be a long table filled with ten other men and women, but in all reality they were all brodcasting from their own holo pads, and the same "meeting room" program would appear on their own. A silly little knick knack made up by VersaLife, and when you looked at it from a subjective point of view, you'd see that those people did alot of silly things. As far as he was concerned, the only useful thing to come out of that damn corporation was the ambrosia, among other things, and rest assured those things were few in number.

Bob Page's image loaded into the "room" last. The man was the most dramatic son of a bitch Walton had ever met, but he admired him for his swift decisiveness and careful planning. He was a genius, but of course such things came with an annoying price. He regarded the rest of the people in the "room" and looked over to Simons. Simons knew what he was thinking, even when he was over one hundred miles away. _Who to replace Manderley?_

"Gentlemen..." he began. "and ladies," he said, regarding Maggie Chow and Samantha Waters. Samantha was the CEO of VersaLife, and the genius behind the Ambrosia vaccination. "We have two grave matters to discuss. Number one, I'm sure you all know about, is the escape of D-02, otherwise known as JC Denton, or Eric Denton. D-01 had also eluded our grasp, but the threat he poses is far less then the one D-02 weilds. I don't know how he escaped, nor do I care. I only care about his death. If he is not apprehended soon...we can lose valuable resources, to put it lightly. Well, we know where he is, Hong Kong. However, all attempts to take him have failed, and we can't initiate a full scale search without having to pull some strings with the Chinese. I'm sure we all know that the money we would lose would find much better uses elsewhere. Our only option is to use assassins and individual agents. We've already got more than twenty men on the job, but I feel as if it won't be enough. Miss Chow?"

Chow gave a short bow, as if she were _actually_ dignified. She was a deranged lunatic. At this thought, Walton did his best not to chuckle out loud. "Thank you, Robert. We know that he is heading for the Kings Tower hotel, from local surveillance records I've personally gathered. I've already taken steps to gaurentee that he doesn't survive the night. No further action required."

Page seemed pleased with her short answer, but Walton could easily spot the doubt in his eyes. Page let out a slight cough, as he looked over to the other side of the "room". "I'm sure you've all dully noted the absence of Joseph Manderley. He was killed during the UNATCO prision break."

Not even a flicker of emotion passed over the faces of the Council. Manderley had been the newest of the Council batch, so naturally the Council would judge him on first impressions. Their doubts about him had all been confirmed. They concluded that he was an old fanshioned bastard, and was slightly on the paranoiac side. He was obsessed with his power over UNATCO, and constantly looked at everyone like they were secretly conspiring to murder him. No one missed him, for good reason. Case closed.

"Of course there's the matter of electing a new member to the Council." Page said. "We have a smaller list of potential candidates than usual, so I'll pass along the list to each of you."

A list of potential candidates flashed on the screen in front of Walton, breifly blocking out the rest of the "room." Walton scanned the list.

_Agent Mari Hela_

_Howard F. Strong_

_General Wright D. Seymour_

_Agent Michael Walter_

Walton selected Agent Hela. She reminded him of...well, himself. Calculating, ruthless, the only downside was that she was bio mechanically augmented. Howard Strong was in charge of the bio weapons program AKA: the transgenic research, and was _slightly _obsessed with the little beasts. Not healthy. Seymour was too incompetent, and Walter was the only other choice he'd consider, but Hela was that much better than him. He looked back up at the holo image to see that everyone else was finished. Page tallyed the votes, and Howard Strong was selected. Walton swore softly and settled back into his swivel chair. The election process of new members was painfully simple, almost resembling a group of children selecting a new member of a secret club, no controversy, no heated arguments. Everything was about to go full circle in a few days, and no one could wait. There was nothing left to discuss, no goodbyes, not even a glance at another member, they all just silently logged out until only he and Page were left. Walton stood up.

"We'll be in a postion to grab Washington by Saturday." Walton said.

"I'm more worried about Denton..." Page mused.

"Vixen can handle him...I hope."

"If not, we'll send Agent Hermann...by the way, I'm leaving it up to you on what to do with UNATCO."

"I'll take up cheif authority." Walton said. He said it as if it was more like having to accept a rather large tax increase rather than becoming head of the UN's personal counter terrorist unit.

"What about FEMA?"

"I've learned to multi-task."Walton said with a sigh. "I'm done for now." He terminated the connection before Page had a chance to speak.

* * *

For the first time in Sandra Rentons memory, she felt elation, even happiness. Jojo was gone forever, she finnaly had the money she needed to buy a decent dress, and best of all, UNATCO ruined the hotel in their fight against JC, forcing those crooks to buy them a new apartment, as well as a compensation of 20,000 credits. He, on the other hand, was still musing over the loss of the hotel. 

"Don't worry about it dad." she said.

Gilbert stared at her, relieved that her usual monotone voice had been replaced with a cheerful one. "I'll have to get used to it, I guess." He unlocked the door to their new home, and both stepped inside, flicking the lights on. The wall was scratched to hell, paint peeling, and the computer had only one moniter. Daylight shined in from half open windows, giving the room an almost whimsical feel.

Sandra laughed, "What a shithole. It'll do."

Gilbert left his suitcase by the door, and went to the bathroom while Sandra started to register their computer for NYCNet. When finished, she logged onto her own acount, and checked the news. A prision break at UNATCO, all masterminded by JC.

"Rotten liars." Sandra muttered. She peaked out the nearby window. Hundreds of people were rioting outside, she could see them in all different directions. Their focus was a group of ambulences racing through the crowds, decked out in steel coating, to protect them from the rioters. Riot cops stood at the sides of the vans shouting warnings to the people. Ten seconds later they started to open fire, and Sandra closed the window to dull out the gunfire.

Yes, daylight had come...but the darkness had not gone.

* * *

JC stepped off the sampan boat and looked over to the nervous owner. They had just arrived outside of Tonnochi Road. JC could already see neon lights flashing about and flying cars overhead. He could hear slot machines clinking and going, and robotic voices of hucksters. 

"This is Red Arrow territory, I will take you no further." the owner said.

"You're Luminous Path?"

"Not so loud!" the owner cried.

JC frowned and payed the owner, who went on his way down the canal quickly.

_Well, I didn't have to kill anyone at least. Maybe my luck has finnaly changed._ JC thought. With those thoughts, he looked around the area he was in(a street near the main business area.)No one around except a bum or two. The canal was basicly dead at this hour. Still, he had to be vigilant. He started off for the place he wanted, the Kings Tower Hotel. Two minutes passed and he was in the main business plaza.

There were very little people around this area, most being inside their penthouses or casinos. He picked a woman in a black dress and asked her where the Kings Tower was. She looked at him strangely, and smiled, deciding that he was a tourist. She pointed upward, JC's eyes following. The place he wanted was right in front of them. JC frowned and continued, not bothering to thank her. He came into the lobby, a nicely furnished room with marble pillars. He approached the receptionist desk and requested room 502, and told him that their worlds were one. He smiled, retrieved a room key and handed it to him. He pointed over to the elevators, and smiled again.

JC thanked him, and entered the elevator, punching in the floor code that was engraved on the key. When the elevator stopped, it opened up into a large hallway. He browsed the room numbers, and stopped at 502. He opened the door, and came into a luxary hotel room, complete with a holo television set, and silk bed. All of it was completely free. JC sighed, and instantly went for the bed, sliping off his trenchcoat. He deserved this, after having nearly no sleep at all in the last few days, not even in a bed. He fell into the covering, and didn't bother to examine the entire room.

He fell asleep almost instantaneously.

* * *

The pilot of the SH-7 helicopter gave Vixen the go. The door slid open, and she let out a repel rope. She slid down, coming to a halt down in a small alley in the business district of Wan Chai. A small radio uplink near her chin crackled. 

"Local surveillance indicates that he just rented a room at the Kings Tower Hotel." said Walton Simons, "The map we provided you with should tell you the location. It's not far."

"Roger that, additional parameters?"

"Interrogate the receptionist. Use whatever means neccesary, and eliminate him. Make it look like a terrorist attack. Find out what room he rented, and kill him."

She took out her silenced pistol, and looked out towards her target, only fifty meters away. By the end of the night, he would be dead, and this time, she would do it right.

Authors Note: Next chapter will arrive soon.


	14. The Kings Tower Hotel

_**Deus Ex: The Conspiracy**_

Authors Note: Hardcore munitions and shit in this one, watch out

Chapter Fourteen: Kings Tower Hotel

Vixen walked into the lobby of the Kings Tower Hotel and looked around cautiously. Other than a few men in black jumpsuits and the receptionist, the place was empty-

_Black jumpsuits?_

Well, not all black, but all of it practically screamed the same thing: Mercenaries, assassins, triads, they were all here. They all probably had one thing in mind: JC Denton. She didn't recognize any of them as Majestic Twelve. Had...had she been _slow_ getting here? They were gonna snatch away not only her objective, but her vengence as well...She had to either work together and kill them later, or kill them all now, unless they were willing to cooperate. However...they were getting payed by MJ-12 to kill Denton, what good would it do for them to have their kill be taken by someone else? No. They all had to die, sooner or later. She had to confirm the rouge agents death for herself, and MJ-12.

She was wearing an elegant red dress, a disguise, of course, to fool anyone curious enough into thinking that she was a high class tourist. She hated the color red, and had admonished so to the one who had packed it. The man had only snickered and walked out of the operations room. She put on a light smile and walked over towards the receptionist desk, recieving small glances from the group of merc's. One of them motioned for her to come over.

_Perfect_, she thought.

She walked over towards the one who had called her and leaned forward.

"You after Denton, too?" he asked.

_My god, these guys are amatuers. _She suddenly remembered her cold feet with Denton after he had shot her SMG away and instantly scorned the thought. _I am better than these men, _she told herself.

"What are all you guys?" she asked almost nonchalantly.

"Mercenaries, all of us, we're on pay from Maggie Chow." the merc explained.

She cursed to herself. Their involvment with..."Miz"(she somehow enjoyed being patronized)Chow would complicate matters. She had to make sure they didn't live, AND make make sure that they didn't come into any further contact with Chow. She looked over at the receptionist. He was packing up, getting ready to leave.

"I was sent by Miss Chow as well, she sent me in to command the group. Orders from above, if you know what I mean." By god, she hoped they were as dumb as they looked.

"I've done dealings before with MJ-12..." he sent her a sleezy smile and added, "babe. And besides, I don't take orders from women."

She ignored his sexist attitude and simply smiled, saying, "Those were my orders." she clapped her hands and announced her taking over to the rest of the merc's. Most simply shrugged and went back to wisecracking, and the rest groaned and made filthy comments. God, she would enjoy killing them, if Denton didn't kill them first. "I have to get back to Miz Chow, I'll be right back." she said, and made for the other corner of the lobby, well out of earshot.

"WS?" she said.

"Copy, mission status?" Walton Simons asked.

"I've run into a bunch of merc's, they say they're from Chow. I took command, saying the same thing."

"Proceed as you see fit." Walton said without hesitation. She was confident that he would make sure no one would ask any questions if the mercs "somehow" dissapeared."We airdropped a few troopers to the roof tops near the hotel, intelligence indicates that there's a feasible escape route from there. Over and out."

She looked back up and saw that the mercs were getting impatient. She'd have to interrogate the receptionist soon. She walked on over to the mercenaries and told them to stay put, recieving a few more groans which she ignored.

She walked into the small receptionist booth and tapped him on the shoulder. He smiled and told her that the hotel was about to close, and that she would have to make reservations tommorow. The security staff would see her and her friends out the door before they took over and the employes left for home.

"I'm sorry, I don't want to rent a room, I'm just looking for a friend, his name is JC Denton."

The receptionist frowned visibly, not bothering to keep his cool. She let out a playful sigh and took her silenced pistol out, letting it draw in front of him where he could see it, and pointed it into his belly. She removed the safty.

"I know- I'm not a spy, please, if you're working for the PRSA(Peoples Republic Security Agency), I know nothing, please don't shoot me!" he babbled.

"Cut the crap, you work for the Luminous Path, and you'll tell me where Denton is sleeping, and who he's expecting tommorow."

"He's on 502, thirty-first floor, please don't shoot."

"Who is he expecting tommorow?" she asked.

"I don't know, a representative. I'm being completely honest here."

She frowned, deep in thought. She figured that she could wait for the contact alone after Denton had been dealt with. Satisfied, she looked back up at the terrified receptionist. "Thank you, you've been a great help." She relocated her aim and shot him in the head.

She stepped over the still crumpling body and observed the security camera displays. The hotel security personal were heading for the lobby, tired smiles on their faces and guns tucked in their holsters. They were about a minute away.

She walked back out and told the merc's to aim their guns for the south doors, where the security would come from, and to fire once they opened. They mercs didn't ask questions and all took out SMG's, ZHL Assault rifles, and shotguns. A dozen laser sights whizzed around the doors. Vixen took out her own silenced sub machine gun and waited.

The doors opened roughly twenty seven seconds later and the oblivious security guards were instantly doused with bullets. Smoke and blood mingled in the air for the next ten seconds before the mercs stopped. Most of the guards had been torn to shreds, but two or three had managed to duck away. V stepped through the door and turned to the left, to see a terrified guard. She shot him in the head. She whirled around and aimed her weapon just as a hefty looking pistol was pointed into her own face. She fired without hesitation and a chinese security guard was shot in the neck. She looked down the corridor to see two more making a run for it. One stumbled over a dead body and was shot twice, sending him to the floor. She ran after the last one and came around the corner with ease, stoping to punch a female guard in the face. She kicked the guard twice more, and fired. The guards head dissapeared in a mist of blood and wavy hair.

Here where the merc's couldn't see her, she stripped and put on her black stealth suit. She left the dress by the dead guard, and observed the corridor. It would look like a terrorist attack. She walked back out and was almost gunned down by the mercs. She held up a restraining hand and told them to go behind the desk and steal any money they could. It would have to look convincing. She sat down while they raided the desk and looked back towards that corridor.

_You've killed over a hundred holographic mercenaries in the training decks, but how do you feel_ _when killing _real_ humans...security guards even._ She realized with what she could only identify as digust that she was devilishly good at her job. She had acted fluidly and without hesitation. Exactly of what was expected from her. She told herself that it was part of the job. She looked around the lobby. The marble was now chipped with bullet holes and gun powder dust, and the elegant red carpet was completely ruined. It had once been very beautiful...

When the merc's were finished, they came back with over a hundred dollars. Not good enough. They would have to hack the client computer network. She asked if any of them was a hacker and two raised their hands. She sent them off to hack into the hotel mainframe and steal as much cash as possible. Once she was finished she would make a mental note to go back down and kill them both.

"We're gonna head upstairs and take out Denton, boys." she announced to the remaining merc's. They all hooted like the red necks they were. She sighed silently and led them over to the two elevators down the north hall. They all piled into the two, after recieving orders as to which floor they were going to. The elevator hummed briefly as it traveled, before opening up to a long, wide hallway. The merc's split up, V taking her own direction as well. Two minutes passed as she inspected each door panel, before finnaly finding 502. She signaled for the rest of them to come over, giving them strategic positions in case the worst happened. She arced her leg back, and moved to kick the door down.

* * *

JC Denton laid awake in bed during the course of the night, unable to sleep. For the first two hours it had been wonderful, but...the dreams had come to him again. It disturbed him enough to make him pace around the room, feeling almost suicidal. He had retreated to the luxuriant bed to think things over, try to remember some of the details. The dream had been surprisingly clear this time, unlike the rest of them. 

He had seen two people mostly, occasionally a man in a white lab coat with red eyes, but it had mostly been these two. Dispite the dreams relative clearness, he could not make out anything within the people, they were just dark blobs to him, with the occasional blue or green where the eyes should be, or the hair. The voices he could make out perfectly. They were teaching somone how to read, and said person was learning fast. It had all felt surprisingly real.

He laid in bed for a few hours, trying to remember everything when he had heard footsteps in the hallway outside. He dismissed it at first; it was probably room service, or a security guard. Yet...something about it unnerved him. He listened intently, hearing whispers and many, many more footsteps coming to join the first. It became clear what was happening almost instantly: Assassins were getting ready to kill him. He got up out of bed, and tip toed over to his trenchcoat, sliping it on. He carefully removed his assault rifle, and drew back the safty pin. He turned on the laser sight, to ensure precision. Then, he slowly drew back to the balcony, and crouched. He breathed in.

The door quivered on its hinges. They had lost the element of surprise. JC put the assault gun to his face, waiting. The door slamed open, revealing the female UNATCO agent from the MJ-12 facility in New York. She stared right at him and ducked out of the way as two mercenaries crowded in to take shots. JC aimed the sight at the first ones head and let off a few rounds, the first few shocking and dazing him as they pinged off his helmet, and the rest buried themselves within his head, spraying blood on the wall behind him.

Without missing a beat, JC aimed at the other ones chest and fired off a dozen rounds, completely oblititerating his upper torso. The mans now severed head fell into his stomach contents with a meaty slap.

He heard voices from the outside, the assassins were going to try something else. One of them peeked over and let off a few rounds with his automatic. JC fell to the ground to avoid the bullets, which tore through the glass panes, causing the entire balcony window to shatter. Wind rushed in from outside. His trench coat billowed in the updraft, making him seem more like a bat then a human. The wind played hell with his aim, so he quickly switched to his magnum pistol. He struggled over the howling wind to hear their voices, and found that they had gone elsewhere. At that moment, a LAM ploped into the room, beeping wildly. JC went out into the balcony and looked up. There were small ledges he could use to escape the blast radius. He activated his speed augmentation and leaped up to said ledge, grabbing hold of and pulling himself upward. The LAM exploded two seconds later, immeadiatly starting a fire in the hotel. He heard the floor give way, and crashed to the room below. JC observed his surrondings. A balcony stood overhead, and two maitenance lifts stood at both sides of where he was. He climbed up to the balcony, and encountered two mercs waiting up there. They had not spotted him yet, but they were keeping an eye out, looking intently at the multiple places he could have gone to avoid the LAM

JC reached into his pockets, being careful not to put too much wait into his side, as he would fall, and took out a LAM. He activated its jellified suction ports and attached it to balcony, setting the mode to remote detonation. JC shimied over the ledge to a point five yards away, and fingered the detonator. The balcony blew apart, completely annihilating the first mercenary in a wave of blood and limbs, and propeled the second one across the night sky for a brief moment, before starting his screaming journey to the pavement below. JC went back over to the ruined balcony and used whatever pieces that remained to pull himself up, and through the now destroyed glass door. He felt exhausted and mentally spent, involuntarily collapsing to rest. It had to be an effect of the killswitch, otherwise he'd be fine. He got up slowly, and crossed the room to the door. He heard footsteps outside, and quickly ducked into the darkness to the right of the door. The door clicked open, and two mercenaries came inside, waving their guns catiously.

"I heard an explosion up here, I know it.", the first one said.

"Weren't Billy and Mick stationed up here by-oh...Gawd..."

He watched them go over to the ruined balcony, stained with blood and severed body parts. JC crawled over to them, got up, and placed both of his hands firmly on both of them. He pushed them out, simple as that. He turned from the street view, and their screaming forms, and crossed over to the door again, opening it with his magnum outstretched. He walked out into the hall, looking about. He saw no one, and walked over to the elevator, pressing the small button. No response...they had jammed it. He turned back and saw four mercenaries, all pointing their guns at him. He had only a second to react before they would fire. He couldn't make any moves, and he was backed up into a corner. His speed aug wouldn't get him out in time, too. He did the only thing he could think of.

"DOOR!" he screamed, pointing to the elevator door repeatedly. He felt immensly silly doing it, but the ruse worked. They all gave him queer looks and hesitated. JC grabbed the first ones weapon and turned it over in his hands, pulling the trigger, sending a cascade of bullets into his chest. He kicked the second one in the gut and seized his body, using it as a human sheild. The mercs fired, all bullets hitting the squirming one he held tightly. He threw the body into the two remaining mercs, and activated microfibrial muscles. He kicked the elevator doors, denting them. He kicked again, and twice more. The doors gave way and both grey panels flew down through the shaft. He ran over to the nearest merc and tossed him into the shaft. The last mercenary got back up, and both of them brought out their weapons. JC charged him, and dived away at the last second, throwing his enemy off guard. He pressed the barrel into the mercs head and fired.

After that, JC sighed. He had doubted that plans chances of working, but apparently they were as dumb as they looked. He looked around the hall, and saw the maitenance doors to his left. As he went for it, he heard a gun being drawn from its holster. He dived to the right, and brought out his own gun. The female agent missed her first shot. JC kicked down the door, and ran up a flight of stairs, turning occasionally to see her and fire. They traded shots like this until he reached the lift. It would take him back down to the ground level. He pressed the button twelve times, until it finnaly responded. He caught a glimpse of the agent just as the lift went down completely.

* * *

Vixen armed a LAM and tossed it down the maitenance shaft. It exploded harmlessly five yards above Denton. She cursed his vile ablity to survive everything, and looked around. She had to get him. She had to get him now, there was no room for mistakes. She spotted another lift a few meters away, and got into it. She pressed the down button, and the lift descended. 

It just wasn't possible. He had killed every single one of her mercenaries, saving her the trouble of doing it of course, but it was just inconceivable. She cursed loudly, pounding the floor of the lift in her own private tantrum. She took out her silenced SMG and started to stroke it, blind in her throes of anger. The lift came to a halt. She bolted out of it and ran down the corridor, coming out into the lobby. Denton was there in the middle. He fired off a round, which tore into the banner behind her. No cold feet this time.

She activated her optic camo and circled around him, taking out her knife. Denton looked around, pacing back and forth. Whenever he heard a noise behind him he would run in the opposite direction. He was playing her out...goddamnit. She came up behind him and seized his neck, taking the knife into her other hand. Denton ripped her hand off of him and kneed her in the gut. She let the knife clatter away as she took out the SMG, firing wildly, not caring what she hit. She hit Denton twice in the stomach and shoulder, causing him to groan out loud. She had him, SHE HAD HIM! She leaped up and ran over to his limping form. She was within a few feet of him when she realized that this was just a trick. He poised himself, and fired with his magnum. The bullet tore through her arm, ripping skin away and blood away. The pain was amazing.

She staggered backwards, reeling from the shock of having been shot. She pushed the pain out of her head, and fired at Denton. He backflipped over the oncoming bullets with his speed augmenation. She ran towards him as he finished the acrobatics and shoved him hard in the chest. A surprised look came over Dentons face as he fell to the ground. She let out a bloodcurlding scream as she riddled him with SMG rounds. She beat him. He was about to die.

Except he wasn't. No blood pooled, though splotchs of it did come out. He was using a ballistic augmentation. He leaped to his feet, a look of immense pain on his face.

_damntheaugmentationsihateihateyou-_

He punched her hard in her flabbergasted face. She flew backwards a few feet and settled to the floor. He was...so...powerful..._unfair._

How could this happen? It was impossible. Why did he have to be so gifted while she disadvantaged! Her hate grew for the augmentation project even more as he ran over to her with his gun outdrawn. He intended to finish this up without hassles, no dramatics, no nothing. Just a shot in the face, and it was over. Her life snuffed from existance, picked up and dragged to the world of the dead.

Denton looked her over, surmising that she had been sufficently subdued. He crouched down next to her, and placed the muzzle of the gun to her left temple. She saw no emotion in his face.

She used her last remaining ounces of strength to shove herself underneath his arm. He stumbled, not expecting this. She raised herself and bit his arm hard enough to draw blood. Denton smacked her head into the marble floor as she kicked out his legs. He fell to the floor in what seemed like slow motion. She kicked his body twice and retrieved the silenced pistol, not bothering to go out for the SMG. She shot him twice before running for the elevators. She pressed the call button twice as she saw Denton struggling to get up, his wounds sealing with the help of regeneration nanites. He just...wouldn't die...

The elevator pinged. She pressed the button again, causing the doors to close, and she quickly ran off into the receptionist kiosk. The receptionists body was already begining to draw flies. She looked out through the pane glass, to see Denton get up. He looked around, not seeing her. If her plan worked, he would assume that she had gone up in the elevator. He sighed, and turned for the hotel entrance. She got up, slipped through the kiosk door again, and stepped into place behind him, her operations boots masking the noise. She pressed the gun into the back of his head. He turned around quickly and kicked her in the stomach, then he seized her flailing body and brought her outside. He looked up towards the hotel, and jumped up to a ledge, hauling himself and his ill gotten prize with him. He was using the speed augmentation. When they reached the fourth floor, He poised himself to throw her off. As he arced his hands back, she bit into his arm again, causing him to involuntarily cry out in pain.

She wriggled out of his grasp, and the two of them grappled for a moment there, their hands locked. In a second he would activate the muscle nanites. She stepped on his left boot, not hard at all, but it distracted him for half a second. She reached for her holstered pistol, took it out, and shot him in the stomach three times. He let out a cry of disbelif and pain. She shoved him off the ledge...watched him fall to the ground with a soft thud, and sat there, exhausted beyond comprehension. She watched the body, daring it to get up. It stayed motionless.

She had killed him.

* * *

Bob Page came down the long bannistered stairs and headed for the dining room. He had brought this mansion just a few weeks before and could not of asked for a finer home. It was victorian, of course, located in New York, a thousand feet above the ground on a long silver tower. Completely secure to terrorism, surface to air missles from the ground, you name it. Yet...it made no sense to him. He was the most powerful man in the history of the world, so why wasn't he living in europe, buying the rights to one of those century old castles? He hated the secrecy of the organization, but it was a neccesity he had to live with. Soon however, it would all be over and done with. And all the secrecy and waiting would be worth it...more than worth it. 

He walked briskly into the dining room, greeting his wife and daughter, and the multitude of business owners who sat at the table. Two reporters flanked Page and instantly moved to shake hands with him, while turning on their holo cams.

_I swear, they compete to sit here._ He thought with a long smile. His wife was smiling of course, something she rarely ever did anymore. She complained frequently about his work at Page Industries, and the marriage was falling through. They were aruging alot now. He expected a divorce within the week. And of course Michealle would want to go with "mommy." Oh well.

Michealle was three years old, and wasn't even his biological daughter. He and May had gotten married a year earlier, after she had divorced her former husband. In reality the whole thing had been a publicity stunt instead of "man and wife." Of course, she hadn't felt the same way, and wanted to "spend their life together." She had proposed at a dinner party with Samantha Waters, so he had thought "why the hell not?" They were married a week later. Anyway, it wasn't a big loss.

He would be able to make himself a hundred wives soon enough.

Bob walked on into the room, and took a seat at the far end of the table, away from May. She sent him a venomous look, and smiled sweetly at a business owner beside her. They were all from different nations and different net owners. There was Mark Alan, owner of Net Play. Inc Anthony Elks, NYCNet, the list went on. They were all here for one reason. They wanted to use Aquinas. He smiled. They were in for one hell of a surprise. He stood up, and picked up his wine glass.

"The food is excellent, Pepe, go take a break, you've earned it." he said to his head cook. He used to be into petty theft. "Ladies and Gentlemen, a hundred years ago, the first computers were as large as this very room. There was no such thing as internet, they were used almost exclusivly by the government, and it took over four hours for a computer to add two and two to equal four."He paused to sip his drink, if only for dramatic effect. The business men squirmed in excitment. "Then, there came dial up internet in the ninties, followed by broadband, and cyber system. Today we have Hyper speed access, the most widely distributed Net property. Tommorow...it will be Aquinas. Aquinas will be the ultimate form of Net access, able to bring up pages within a milisecond, distribute news and hundreds of websites for all its clients constantly. There will be no such thing as a "server delay" or "cannot connect." Those will only be bad memories. Aquinas is the Future." He sat back down.

The men instantly broke into a fervent round of applause. His daughter gigled and clapped her hands as well. Of course they had all heard this before, but they loved to hear him speak it himself. They were all so blissfully ignorant of Aquinas's true purpose. He took out a datacube, one that contained the technical specs of Aquinas (only the net properties, of course.) He activated the cube' and passed it around, a mist of blue letters following it holographically. It contained things that only the people it was being shown to would get. The reporters shrugged and followed the cube' with their cameras.

May came over and kissed him on the check, leaning forward, "I know we've been arguing alot lately, but...I see that you're very busy with this project, and I accept that. Let's not fight again." She said with a smile. He smiled back, feeling the first surge of admiration for her in the last three months. Maybe it would be hurtful to have a divorce...

No. He had to stay on the ball. She was with him again, great, but he couldn't lose sight of his ultimate goal for the organization. There was too much riding on it. His thoughts turned to JC Denton. How he despised him...how he admired his performance...how he feared the day he would expose the organization. He rose again.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, I fear I have another matter to attend to, it won't be long, though. In the mean time, enjoy the delicious meal Pepe has prepared." He kissed his wife, and hugged his daughter, then headed off towards his office. He walked up the stairs, mind twisting and turning. It all came back to one thing: Denton. He threw open the doors to his office and activated the holo com pad. He was going to contact Agent Vixen. The pad hummed for a moment, playing waiting music as it established the uplink while waiting for the receptiant to answer. Vixen appeared a second later, probably communicating with a portable uplink. She looked exhausted.

"Well?"

"Mr...Page?" she said grogilly.

"Yes, it's me. You'll be answering to me for now." He lied. "What's going on?" He had to know, or it would drive him mad.

"Target appears to be dead, from where I am, cannot confirm yet." She said, as if he knew all the details. But that didn't matter, all he knew was that the bastard looked dead. He wondered vaguely what happened.

"Confirm it then damnit, confirm it!" He demanded.

Her eyes screeched protest: They had fought fiercely. A mighty gust of wind blew her hair. He scratched his chin, puzzled. "Where are you, exactly?"

"The fourth floor of a hotel building." She said wearily.

"Can you get off, then!" His impatience was reaching critical levels.

"Not without sustaining major injuries, it's hard enough to stay where I am."

"You MUST confirm." He stated.

"That's impossible from where I am, sir."

"YOU MUST DAMNIT YOU MUST!" He said, now screaming. She was so close to relieving him of his goddamn headaches...

"I can't, sir. I can't!" She said. It sounded like she was about to burst into tears.

He put his hands to his head, pacing back and forth. He could try threatening her, but that would do no good, it wouldn't be productive. He would call for a helicopter to pick her up, screw what the public thought.

His anger rose systematically as he spoke, "A helicopter will pick you up soon. Keep an EYE on Denton's body. If I find it GONE by the time you report back, I'll have your head! I SWEAR IT!"

She simply nodded, her eyes trailing down to the place where Denton must have been. Page terminated the link and went to go make a call to the VersaLife building in Wan Chai.

But not before taking an asprin.

* * *

V looked out towards the place where Denton's body lay, a pool of blood gathering at his stomach where she had shot him. He had to be dead, there was no other alternative...but Page wanted to know anyway. She could have easily made her way down to make sure he was dead, but every part of her body ached. If she had tried, she probably would of slipped and fallen to her death. 

She became increasingly bored just staring at the damn thing, nothing but him on the ground, a bloody trenchcoat, and a pistol beside him. She was tired beyond belif, hating Page for making her do this. All...she wanted to do...was sleep...

No. She had to stay awake, keep her eyes on the prize...eyes...prize...

_Stay awake damn you stayawakedamnit._

Eyes...on...the...

* * *

"How's he doing?" She said. 

"What?" Robert said, taken aback by the sudden voice behind him. He was no longer the man with brown hair. He had learned that people had names(titles used to differentiate from other people, he guessed), and it was polite to call them as such. The woman with the- whoops. _Clarissa _came up behind Robert and smiled, then they pressed their lips together in a weird, bizzare fashion. They smiled over at him.

HIS name was Eric, but people liked to call him JC. He didn't know why. It had been a year after he had killed the three thugs, apparently part of a physics examination test, but Robert and Clarissa were both sad about it, and rarely mentioned it during the tests. It was strange, everyone else was so proud of him over it, like Bob, Walton, and Dr. Prosser from the fitness lab. Robert and Clarissa said that it was a sin to kill, but everyone else seemed to think otherwise. It was all very confusing.

The greatest joy was not in killing however, although Bob and Walton wanted it that way, but in learning to talk and write. Already he was a fluent in english, after just two weeks of full time studying. Clarissa had cried when he learned his first word...it was...Mama. Bob had simply laughed, commenting on the sillyness of such words. He stared at them both, his big blue eyes widdening.

"Why do you do that?" He asked.

Robert looked surprised, then a little embarrassed, "We do it...because..."

"We love each other." Clarissa finished.

"Why?" He asked.

"It's a long story, Eric." She was the only one who called her Eric.

He nodded, not wanting to get into specifics. Robert smiled again. It was making him sad, the way they smiled so much. He couldn't smile, even if he wanted to. Walton was the same way.

"C'mon, JC. Let's continue excerising." He said.

Eric turned back to obstacle course in front of him. The first part was a small maze, then a jumping course, and laser trigger acrobatics. He stripped out of his clothes completely(a neccesity he had recently learned to live with), to give him extra speed during the course, and crouched into a runners position. A mechanical beep rose from the other end of the course, and he began. He ran through the concrete maze, turning corners and calculating the odds of each passage being correct. When he reached the end, he had only made two mistakes, taking at least thirty seconds.

The next course was jumping. He ran up the stairs to an elevated platform, and jumped a small span to the next one. The jumps always got progressivly harder. He back up, and ran with full speed to reach the next one. He made it. The next one involved jumping through a pipe to reach the next platform. He jumped in, crawled through the pipe, and flung himself at the last platform, barely making it. The last part of the course was the laser trigger acrobatics, which involved doing impossible moves to avoid fast moving laser beams.

He ran up another flight of stairs, coming up to a large wall. Laser's instantly showed up on the wall, crossing and criss crossing. He took a moment to anaylze the typical movement path and started up the wall, climbing up a mesh wire. He let go as a laser came up to him, grabbing hold once it passed, and easily made his way up. Next he had to conquer a solid slab of concrete, spanning the distance of two long pillars. He climbed up the first pillar, and the lasers came up. They were wild this time, but still predictable. He jumped through the first two, and instantly wrapped his arms and feet around the slab, rolling himself under it. A laser passed overhead. He shimmied like this for a few feet, before hauling himself back up to avoid the bottom laser. He rolled past the next laser and vaulted over the last one. He continued falling into the floor below the second pillar, saved by the soft matted floor. The next challenge was a dark tunnel with unpredictable lasers. He went off, crossed the tunnel threshold, and saw the lasers. They moved in unexpected directions, devoid of predictabilty. If he stayed in one place too long it would be over. He rolled underneath a passing laser, and jumped up in the air to avoid the next. He backed into the wall to avoid a long stream of multiple lasers and ran towards the exit at full tilt, jumping and rolling occasionally. He backfliped over an incoming laser from behind, and rolled to avoid it on its next pass. He crossed the finish line, out of breath.

Clarissa came up and hugged him, thrusting his clothes into his hands. He looked up at the score board, seeing with pride that he had broken his record. He hastiliy got dressed, and went with the two scientists to the rec room. He was allowed to take breaks now and then, being told that he had earned it.

Inside was Bob. He was smiling brightly at him. Robert frowned and walked over to him, whispering. After a minute he came back, now smiling.

"Paul-" He recieved a long glare from Bob,"Er, the Primary Unit is graduating tommorow into a full time Agent." He said.

"Wonderful!" Clarissa said, and they hugged. She looked at Eric, and smiled. "That'll be you someday, kid."

"What's going on?" Eric asked.

Bob answered, "We're taking you out to a social outing, young man. It'll be a demonstration...it'll be what YOU will be someday." He said thoughtfully.

He wondered who the primary unit was. He dismissed the thought shortly, and stood off to the side. Bob and Robert left the room, leaving himself and Clarissa behind.

"Well, come on, Eric." She said.

"Where are we going?" He asked.

"New York City."

"Where's that?"

"A large city very far away from here. We have to take a plane." She explained.

He suddenly had a cold feeling come over his whole body. They were all smiling timidly, looking at him as if he had a bomb ticking inside of him.

He wondered just what his future would actually be like.

* * *

JC woke up, and groaned. He vaguely remembered falling, falling away from the agent. His stomach felt ice cold. He felt there and screamed out in pain. There were three large open bullet wounds in his lower body. Blood was all around him. His head was bleeding furiously. The pain was excruciating. 

"All...that work...for nothing." He mumbled to himself. He knew he was as good as dead, his back was probably broken, skull fractured in some places, and his insides would slowly, painfully seep out through the wounds in his stomach. He wanted to cry. He couldn't remember a single thing that had ever spurred such a thought, not even when he suspected that Paul might be dead in the MJ-12 facility.

He realized that he was panicking, so he stopped his run away train of thought and focused on one thing: Staying alive. As soon as he thought of this, he remembered the regeneration nanites. They came on as soon as he willed them to, and the bullets in his stomach were pushed out in a cloudy mist of nanites. He felt a tingling sensation in his back, and then a sharp crack as it was set back into place. The nanites cleaned the wounds in his stomach, and administered a pain killing substance. As soon as the second wound was cleaned, his bio energy ran dry. He reached into his trenchcoat for the energy pills, kept in large cylindrical capsules. There were none. The nanites would have to regain their strength with time.

JC got to his feet, keeping his left hand on the last bullet wound. He felt largely dissoriented, so he figured that to his persistant skull damage. One false move would probably throw a crucial bone out of place, impaling his brain, causing his body to urinate, defecate involuntarily-

_Stop, you're panicking again!_ He told himself. He had no room for paranoia, not now. He reached into his coat, searching for a medkit, and found none. He must of figured he wouldn't need them after getting the regeneration nanites...

He continued to walk, without aim, around. He gave the nanites a few more seconds, and tried them again. He felt the third wound seal up, and a slight stinging in his head. He was healed completely.

He sighed. A normal agent would of been dead by now. He thanked whoever had thought up of regeneration nanites and sat down on a bench. A Chinese police vehicle served to a halt in front of him, two MP's getting out. Another squad car did the same a few feet away. Four MP's got out of this one. Three of them rushed into the hotel, and the other three sealed off the area with a "do not cross" band. An MP asked him a few questions before deeming him useless, and rushed inside. He hadn't expected the police to know about the mercenaries so soon. He heard more sirens ahead, and decided to book out. An MP told him to halt, so JC took out his credit chit and tossed it over to him. The MP smiled and waved him on.

JC had a splitting headache, so he wasn't in the mood to save on cash, or do anything in particular. He only wanted to sleep, or not move, or refrain from doing anything that required physical activity. Every part of his being ached. For some reason this reminded him of the agent, and he looked back up at the hotel. He couldn't see her. He gave up and continued walking, going past a crowd of curious onlookers. A black helicopter glided overhead, catching JC's eye. It continued on its path and came up to the hotel, getting stares from the MPs below. It rose up to the fourth floor, and waited there for something. After a few seconds, the helicopter jerked, and flew off into the distance. It had probably been MJ-12 coming to pick up the agent. Whatever. He didn't care anymore.

He sat back down on another bench, and rested there for a long time. Eventually, a pair of firm hands grasped his shoulders, and his eyes flashed open. A man looked down at him with an inquisitive stare. He wore a white jacket, with nothing underneath that, no tee shirt, or anything. He had casual jeans on, but what stood out the most was a long carved sword rung around his exquisite looking belt. An assault shotgun was strapped around his neck, hanging casually to the side.

"I am Gordon Quick, envoy of the Luminous Path. I am also it's Dragon Head. You must come with me to a more...secluded area. We will discuss what you want there." He said, and turned to walk off.

JC's head was spinning. Why would they send their _leader_ in a time of warfare with the Red Arrow? He was obviously a hands on kind of man. The questions made his head hurt, so he simply got up and followed the Dragon Head in silence.

Authors Note: Maggie Chow will be formally introduced in the next chapter. As always, reviews are most appreciated.


	15. Tonnochi Road Part Two, and the Canal

_**Deus Ex: The Conspiracy**_

Chapter Fifteen: Tonnochi Road, part two and the Canal.

Authors Note: For some reason, the conversation with Gordon Quick is discluded from the script I have for the Hong Kong mission. I improvised.

JC Denton followed the Dragon Head through a small wooden store front on the far side of Tonnochi Road, in the Business District of Wan Chai. JC looked up at the VersaLife building before going inside himself. On the outside, it appeared to be a fruit stand, but on the inside, two high tech computer terminals sat before each other, along with a small secret passage at the far left side of the room. JC noted a keypad next to the poorly hidden secret door. There was a counter of course, with the usual products sitting on it, even a smiling salesman behind it. The scene looked so surreal when coupled with the computers sitting behind the counter. Quick pressed one of the buttons on the keypad, causing the two computer terminals to fold up, and retract into the wall. Another press of the same button brought them back out.

"Completely safe from Red Arrow inspections, you see." The Dragon Head explained. He punched in a combination of numbers, and the secret door slid back. JC followed Quick inside, and came into a small, ultramodern room with various equipment lying about. The Dragon Head took a seat at a stainless steel table, and JC did likewise.

"Mr. Quick...", JC began.

"I have heard talk in the streets that a foreigner has been asking too many questions. Questions about Tracer Tong. If you think that I will simply take you to him without having proven your worth, you are sadly mistaken."

"Paul visited the Luminous Path compound a few times-" JC started.

"What do _you_ know of Paul Denton?" The Dragon Head leered.

"He's my brother. I'm JC." JC explained.

"They say you're loyal to UNATCO!", Quick exclaimed, his free hand reaching instinctivly for his weapon. "Why should we trust a Westerner?"

_News is slow around here, I gather. _JC thought. "I can assure you that I've dropped any and all affiliations with UNATCO...and with the United Nations for that matter."

"This is rather _conveinant_ isn't it, Mr. Denton?", Quick challenged. "That you come asking for the location of Tracer Tong and suddenly are opposed to UNATCO? Yes, rather conveinant indeed, I should think."

"I helped my brother AND several NSF members escape from UNATCO. That should be proof enough."

"If your word can be considered the truth, then yes, I suppose that should proove it!" He said, sarcasm deep in his voice.

_God, he's hard to crack. I wonder how Paul managed..._ It occured to JC at that moment that Paul probably hadn't joined the Luminous Path in the same way he was. Tong had probably contacted him, and things went off from there...

"Mr. Quick, I just escaped from a large group of assassins sent out to kill me, and nearly died in the process. My head and body hurt like hell, and I'm _not_ in the mood to play fucking mind games with you. Is that clear?" JC stated, biting off on every word.

The Dragon Head seemed unfazed at first, but sighed, and slowly receeded in his chair, in deep thought. He seemed to come to a mental conclusion, and sat back up straight again. "There has recently been a crisis among the Triads." He began, "Yuen Kong, the former Red Arrow Dragon Head, developed a nanotechnological blade. A fine weapon, very potent in the hands of a master."

"I've heard of it, it was developed by VersaLife, right?" JC asked, remembering his conversation with the Wan Chai teahouse manager.

"Indeed. They have an agreement with the Red Arrow. We were developing a sword ourselves, but this one was far too superior to our design."

JC could see where this was heading to.

"The Dragons Tooth Sword was recently stolen from Yuen Kong, just before he was assassinated. His former girlfriend, Maggie Chow instigated a war between our Triads by blaming the Luminous Path for the theft, and subsequent assassination of their Dragon Head. Max Chen has recently come to power in the Red Arrow, and hails to the fanaticism of the Red Arrow. In weeks a full scale war will most likely be initiated, and already both sides have lost a great deal of men. Tracer Tong wishes to avert such a crisis, and he believes that Chen will be forthcoming if we bring him evidence that Maggie Chow has lied."

"So, basically you want me to do this for you, and you'll be willing to bring me to Tracer Tong?" JC finished.

"Precisely. Documents, the sword itself, photographs, many things will do." Quick explained.

"I'm not your thug, and I don't have much more than twelve hours left to be your ally." JC said.

"Mr. Tong deals with businessmen! Not beggars or strangers who might be spies! That is the deal, take it or leave it."

"...Fine." JC said.

"Excellent. Maggie Chow lives in the Queens Tower Apartment building, room 205. I'll leave the rest up to you, Mr. Denton."

* * *

"I have you now...father...you WILL PAY!"

Maggie Chow watched as her younger self carrened into battle with a man in a black jumpsuit. She slashed forward with a long curved rapier expertly, a sign of at least four months of fencing at the studio. She did all of her stunts back then. They battled furiously inside of a large buddhist temple, drawing closer and closer to the zenith of the roof. She and her "father" edged up to the top, their swords locked. She showed no signs of faltering, and punched the man in the face. He drew back a bit, and retaliated with a long swipe of his sword, a sure kill, but she cartwheeled to the left, and slashed the man in half with a long spray of blood.

"No..." The man croaked. His two sides slid down the roof, and ultimately fell to the ground below.

Maggie turned off the holovision set, and sank into her velvet couch, nostalgia overwhelming her. She had been so beautiful and prestigious in those days. Back then she had been an amateur at sword play, but nowadays she fenced regularly with an expert she'd hired to keep herself busy. Naturally she won everytime.

She sighed loudly, and looked around the room. It was awfully late. She wondered why the mercenaries she had hired hadn't reported back yet. She strolled over to the window, and looked over the span of thirty feet to the Kings Tower. Ambulences and police squad cars mingled on the bottom level.

_Goddamnit, I told them to be discreet._ Oh well. It hardly mattered now if they were picked up, or even killed. She just hoped that they had taken care of Denton in time.

_Don't be silly; Of course he's dead. There must of been twelve men going in there_,She assured herself. She looked over the hotel. Smoke billowed from two different locations along the structure of the building, suggestions of heavy fighting. Her earlier doubts were returning. She tapped her foot furiously. May Sung came out of her room, looked down over the railing into the living room, and waved down to "Mother Chow."

"May I get you anything, Mother Chow?" She said sweetly.

She turned away from the long windows, "A salad, to my office please."

"Yes, Miss Chow."

Maggie strolled leisurely through the living room, admiring her prized Golden Buddha, the various sculptures and pottery. Her book collection. Her favorites, Tai-Fun and Insurgent were always kept to the middle, within easy reach. They all looked so ugly compared to her greatest treasure of all. She went up to her office, unlocking a cabinet, and took out The Cobras Tooth Sword. It was an experimental off shoot of the Dragons Tooth, also kept by her in the security office. She developed this prize herself. There was actually a series of "Teeth" nano swords, all with different properties and shapes. No two swords were exactly the same, but they were all off shoots of the original, The Dragons Tooth Sword. The Dragons Tooth was notable for its ability to cut through _any_ type of metal. Naturally it went through human skin like a hot knife through butter. The nanites in the original sword were designed to consume every substance they came into contact with, including the very hilt of the sword itself, which was why the first few sword experiments failed to impress(along with a few severed hands.)The solution was to keep the nanites that were inside the hilt inside a little magnetically sealed box, and upon activation, the box would push the nanites out, while keeping them outside of the hilt. The other swords worked in similar ways.

The Cobra's nanites were not as powerful as the Dragons Tooth's, but the nanites inside this sword were experimental poison nanites, originally designed for assassination purposes. She had integrated them into the sword technology. The Cobras Tooth matched her personality completely. She put the elegant weapon back, and went off to the far side of the room, taking a seat at her computer. She went through her email for a few minutes before May Sung came in with a fresh bowl of salad. She put it down on the desk, and left without a word.

Maggie activated her personal holodeck, and uplinked to Bob Page. Page appeared ten seconds later, massaging his brow with a handkercheif.

"Just wanted to let you know that-" Maggie began, before Page cut her off with a vicious snarl.

"They're all dead, apparently." He seemed to be having tremendous difficulty staying calm.

"What happened?" She asked.

"Agent Vixen joined the merc's before they initiated the attack. They got into a serious fire fight, resulting in all the merc's being killed, and Vixen pushing Denton off the fourth floor."

"Then he's dead." Maggie said, a statement more than a question.

"NO, HE'S NOT!" Page screamed suddenly. Maggie recoiled, but quickly composed herself. "Er...why not?"

"I told Secret Agent Bitch to keep an eye on the body, and she falls asleep. Next thing you know, the FUCKING body is gone when the helicopter comes in to pick her up!" He was frothing now.

"So...punish her." It was the only suggestion she could come up with.

"Oh, I don't have to worry about that, the bitch is as good as dead. But that won't magically bring Denton back into custody. Or to a disused graveyard. Bottom line, he's in your sphere of influence right now, track him. Good bye."

His image blinked out. She stabbed the salad with her fork, deciding which part to dig into first. She waited a minute before tossing the thing out, and worked to get on the surveillance channels.

* * *

The black helicopter came to a halt at the top of the VersaLife building, on the good side of the mostly destroyed rooftop. The pilot, and MJ-12 guard went out, and approached a ladder at the far side of the roof. The guard turned to Vixens window, and tapped it.

"Stay in here, Agent Walter will be with you in a few minutes." The guard pulled the door open, and put his hand out. "Your weapons, please."

She gave him the Silenced SMG, and kept the pistol in her boot. The guard frowned. "The ordinance personal said you had a pistol as well, where's that?"

"I lost it while fighting Denton." She said sleepily.

"I need to check you." The guard insisted.

"Go right ahead." She said, stepping out of the helicopter. The guard grimaced, and patted her body lightly, blushing heavily when he came to her chest area. She rolled her eyes as he continued, silently praying that he wouldn't request for her to take the boots off.

"Er, yeah, looks clear." The guard said quickly, "Get back inside the chopper." He hurried over to the small mailbox area, near the ladder. They had had a new set of language perception nanites in there, but it was gone now.

V got back into the chopper, looking over the controls. She would need them soon.

Of course she knew what was going to happen. She had disregarded a direct order from the Bob Page himself...by dozing off. Walter would get a few chuckles out of that. Chances were that they were just gonna execute her here. A shot to the head? Probably, but Walter would go the extra mile, to make her suffer while regretting her mistake. He would throw her off the building, a sixty story foot drop. The irony of the situation was not lost on her.

She looked back out, seeing the guard smoking a cigarette near the mailbox. He was obviously there to watch her, but didn't seem too commited to his rather simple task. She settled into her seat, putting on a face of immense tiredness. Agent Walter and two MJ-12 soldiers approached the chopper. The pilot hurried on after them. Walter opened the door, and got in next to V, smiling widely at her. The two MJ-12 soldiers flanked her, keeping their hands on the MP7's strapped around their necks. The pilot entered, and soon the helicopter was in the air again.

"Keep at this altitude." Walter said to the pilot. Vixen stared at her commanding officer, begining to hate him more and more.

He smiled brightly at her again, "I see that you find sleeping more important than the security of our organization."

"I couldn't help it-" He punched her in the stomach. It wasn't a punishment blow, it was to sedate her for the grand finale. The guards snickered loudly. Walter didn't bat an eye, not taking his eyes off of her. He did something MiB's rarely ever bothered to do. He took of his aviators, showing his large purple eyes. It was to add to her growing terror.

"It hurts, you know. To take them off. They're hideous, aren't they?" Walter said, cracking his knuckles. The MJ-12 soldiers were gawking at him, not bothering to hide their disgust. Walter didn't seem to notice. He did a quick turn around and kicked her in the stomach savagely.

"I thought you were supposed to be interrogating me..." Vixen said between gasps.

"Interrogation?" He laughed, "We're not interrogating you..." He took her chin in his hands, "We're executing you. Open the door!" He cried to the pilot over the din of the helicopter blades. The hatch slid open, causing wind to gush in. Walter took the neck of her jumpsuit, and brought her out into the open air.

"You know, we've never had such a screw up like you before. Majestic Twelve never fails, and you've failed to show that. Your job is offically over, 'Agent'." Walter said. He let go.

Vixen grabbed the floor of the chopper, and propelled herself back in with a forward flip. Walter reacted instantneously, grabbing her arms, and attempted to pull her back out. She responded by kicking him in the stomach, causing him to recoil slightly. She grabbed the nearest MJ-12 soldier and shoved him out the open hatch. The other one was fumbling with the safty catch of his gun. She took out her silenced pistol, and shot him twice in the head. She turned and shot the pilot in the back four times. The helicopter began to drop like a rock. A dim red light danced around the chopper, klaxons blaring. Walter stumbled, and fell. The chopper's eratic movement caused him to roll towards the open hatch. As he rolled, he grabbed Vixen, intending to use her as an anchor. She kicked at him, found that this was a useless gesture, and aimed her pistol down as she began to fall. She fired twice. The shots pulverized his hand, leaving a bloody stump in its place. Walter howled like a wild animal, and fell out of the helicopter, screaming a bloody cacophony on his way down.

V turned, and got into the pilots seat, pushing the body to the side. It rolled out of the chopper. Her short anaylsis of the controls before had left for with a rough idea of how to control it. Gently she pulled a lever until the chopper righted itself. She pulled another lever, which caused the chopper to ascend upward. When she was certain she had it all right, she manuveared the chopper upwards, gliding over buildings. She wondered how she would _ever_ get out of this one alive.

It was so obvious.

She would find Denton. She would take him, and kill him once and for all. Page would jump for joy. Then, they would try to kill her again, or at least try to. She had in depth information over the organization, the perfect black mail tool.

She smiled as the helicopter flew. Yes...she would find him.

* * *

He/She/It awakened. Everywhere He/She/It looked, there was binary code.

execing icarus.root/ Echellon IV/ prgrm...

...:ed

...return bypassed

...generic/p exec

...surveillance prgrm execing

Data swarmed in like rain drops in a heavy storm...so much to process, yet not enough.

.../helios/ exec...

exec failed

require daedalus.root /Echellon III/ prgrm.

Drop drip drop.

...subject surveillance prgrm/ exec/

...;10101110010

He/She/It felt purpose...History began to gather itself within.

...terrorist/tracker/ exec...

...nsf...

...shilouette...

...templar

...x51

...illuminati

Things were becoming far more clear now. He/She/It fully understood the parameters, rules, groupings, and deadlines.

...search/and/destory/ prgrm exec...

...daedalus.root/Echellon III/prgrm.

...execing parameters...

subvert

isolate

dismantle

An enemy...something to amuse Him/Her/It for awhile. He/She/It automatically set into motion the things needed for it's upcoming task.

There was something else...

...subject/denton/

...surveillance/Echellon IV.

...parameters

track

isolate

direct

The mission would start...very soon...

...exec complete

...icarus.root/ Echellon IV/ prgrm intiated...

* * *

Maggie was busy looking at the left most moniter(looking over the main plaza at the market) when May Sung came over the intercom.

"Miss Chow, a visitor for you."

"I'll be down in a moment, who is he or her?"

"One Mr. Denton, Miss Chow."

A cold feeling came over Maggie at that moment. She suddenly had a headache. She had a maddening urge to go down there at once with the Cobra in hand to kill them. Both of them. It would be so easy...terrifyingly easy. He was here. In her _house_.

Common sense soon returned, and she clicked the intercom again, "I'll be there in a moment, May. Tell him to wait. I'll be downstairs in the living room. "

"Of course, Miss Chow."

The intercom snapped off.

She hurried downstairs, going into the depths of her memory, looking for something useful. She had read the file on the Denton brothers, but only in passing, nothing she really bothered to look at with scrutny. She had to make a compelling case to JC. At the same time, she was debating on whether or not to just capture him here...

No. It wouldn't work, and by the time the guards got there, she would be dead. She had met Paul in passing, and they had even slept together after a long drawn out campaign of using one another. At that time, of course, she thought she had him by the balls, (none of them were expecting to realize that he was working with terrorists) but it turned out that HE had her by the balls even tighter. She had been his mission commander on his "job" to "assassinate" Tracer Tong. By now she had realized that he was there to get information about the Organization, and breifings about the Ambrossia from Tracer Tong. He had come on to her, in a fashion that was very much unlike his personality. Foolishly, she had decided that she was out of sexual practice, and said "what the hell." It was all a ruse to get her to open up some valuable information, or make sure that he knew she was sleeping, curled up on the bed while he was secretly on the computer, finding out about MJ-12's secrets.

It must of been short lived, and largely unsuccesful, otherwise the Organization would be in tatters by now. At any rate, she wasn't about to tell Bob Page that she had been foolish enough to get her guard down in favor of sleeping with an agent. She pulled back what she knew about Paul, from his personallity, to the way his body was shapped.

_I had first hand experiance, after all._ She thought mischievously. If she ever saw Paul again, she would have him killed...

She stared out the window, getting her facts straight for the upcoming conversation, while formulating a plan to put JC's apperance into an advantage. Perhaps an errand? She rolled that idea around a bit, letting it take shape, unsupervised.

She would send him to the police station in the market...While he was going through the canal BAM an ambush would spring. She had two more teams of mercenaries left, so she would select them. Make them wear Luminous Path uniforms...She applauded herself at the golden idea, and rang for May Sung to take him to her.

* * *

"Mother Chow, Mister JC Denton."

The apartment was remincisant of a presidental suite, JC observed. From paintings to statues to sculptures...it was all here. Exquisite floor coverings, apparently made in Tibet. The maid had been on a power trip while she led him into the living room. He looked at Maggie Chow.

She was wearing an elegant red dress, pok-a-dotted with flowers, and reef symbols. She stood with an air of daintiness and flair. Something felt off about her, though. It was the way she smiled, an almost maniac grin.

"...In the flesh. As dark and...serious as his brother." She looked back outside. "Please, take a seat."

JC chose the nearest little red bench, and sat down. Chow went over to the other one, and sat down as well. She beamed brightly at him, putting him at ease. At least she wasn't trying to kill him, or muscle him into doing business for herself. He wondered if the Dragon Head had been telling the truth. He WAS however, surprised that she knew of him...maybe she was...

"You know who I am...and Paul? You know my brother?" He asked.

"Intimately." She said with a smile. The maid came over and asked JC if he wanted anything. He only requested a glass of water. Chow wanted wine, and a small slice of ham. "You don't want anything more?" She asked JC.

"No, water is fine, Miss Chow." JC confirmed.

Chow smiled and patted him on the shoulder, "Call me Maggie.", She said sweetly.

It was clear that she was talking conversationally and using body language to subdue him, but this went over JC's head for the time being.

"Paul never talked about you." JC said. Had they...had a relationship of some sort?

Maggie chuckled, "That is why he is still alive, JC. He can keep a secret, even from his own brother."

"But why-" JC began.

"Paul told you about Majestic Twelve, correct? The conspiracy behind UNATCO?" Maggie said.

_Not surprising that she knows. _JC thought. "Just the name."

"MJ-12 sent Paul to murder the Red Arrow leader...and me too." Maggie said darkly. Hr flitted back outside the window for a moment. The maid came back with the ham, wine, and JC's glass of water. He drank it gratefully. Maggie observed him as he did this, smiling as she ate her ham. They resumed conversation two minutes later, "So he double crossed them." JC said.

"Let's just say that I presuaded him to join our side." Maggie said between bites at her ham.

_Cyrptic, _JC thought. As much as he wanted to, he decided not to pursue the subject, "What does MJ-12 want with the Red Arrow?" He asked.

She sighed, putting her wine glass down, "We are winning the Triad war against Majestic 12's ally, the Luminous Path. We were developing a new technology. You might have heard about a sword?"

"The Dragons Tooth, right?" JC asked. The damn sword seemed to the be the center piece of the struggle.

Maggie nodded, "The Triads settle disputes in contests of skill, which includes the crafting of weapons. The Dragon's Tooth would have made us unstoppable."

_Yet they're shooting each other up with sub machine guns and hacking each other to pieces at the same time. Amazing. _Maggie seemed to be contradicting everything Gordon Quick had told him before. Who was he to believe? It suddenly occured to JC that, being the Dragon Head, Gordon Quick would have told JC falsehoods to further his cause. Maggie was more like a bystander, loosely affiliated with the Red Arrow. He said, "So Majestic 12... they're trying to tip the balance? Give the Luminous Path a technological advantage?" Her argument was becoming more and more believable.

"Precisely." She said, walking over to the window. "I tried to warn the people, but people like Gordon Quick simply call me a liar." She sighed.

"So what can we do?" JC asked.

She paused for only a brief moment, "The police station in Wan Chai...in it's records computer, there is all the evidence we need, video tapes, paper work, photographs. They will not act, though. MJ-12 has them firmly within their grasp." She walked up to him, "I need you to go there, see for yourself. Then, come back to me. We'll do all the planning at that time."

_She's a quick planner._ JC admired. She had him convinced, but there was one more loose end to take care of, "It's only fair to tell you that I spoke with Gordon Quick before coming here. I thought he was a friend of my brother's. IIagreed to visit you and learn the truth of the situation."

Maggie frowned, knowingly, "A petty thief, and a liar. Don't believe a word any of them say."

"One last thing, Maggie." JC said, "I need to see a man called Tracer Tong. Do you know of him?"

"Of course I do." Maggie said, "He's the Red Arrow's special asscociate. I will take you to him after you've collected the neccesary evidence."

"Alright." JC said.

"Before you leave, tell me what happened to your brother."

"He's on his way to Hong Kong, hopefully soon."

"Perfect." She said, "If you see him, tell him that I have an important matter to discuss. In the meantime, you should get to the police station."

The maid came over at that time, and gestured for JC to leave.

As he walked out of the hotel, everything seemed right...yet he felt as if he missed something very important.

* * *

JC paid the boat driver, and stepped back into the canal district once again.

Daylight was slowly approaching, shades of oranges and red playing on the horizon line. At this hour, everything seemed tranquil. The prostitues and petty theives were gone, replaced by doves and early rising shop keepers. For the first time in a long while, JC's thoughts were completely still. Everything was solved, no more loose ends, and more importantly, no more headaches. There WAS a small nagging feeling, which JC couldn't quite place, but he ignored it mostly.

A police helicopter suddenly zoomed in overhead, the downdraft of it's rotors spurring pieces of garbage into a frenzy of wind. It glided off as quickly as it came, heading in the direction of the market. A nearby shopkeeper laughed out loud.

JC walked over, "What's so funny?"

"Haven't you been keeping with the news?" He said in between chuckles, "It's been hell on earth for the last two days in this damn city. First the roof of the VersaLife building blows up, two government agents get killed in the market, hotel gets shot up, and bodies are being found left and right! And now a helicopter gets stolen, and some german mech trashes a bar in the market, I think it's all hilarious."

The words "german mech" kept on playing back and forth in JC's head. "And those helicopters?" He said in a daze.

"They're out hunting for the stolen chopper, have orders to shoot it down." He looked down at his wares, "Best fruit on the canal-"

"I'm not hungry." JC said. His headaches were coming back at the mention of Gunther Hermann. There was no doubt in his mind that he was the "german mech." He continued on down the canal, not bothering to say goodbye to the confused shopkeeper. He crossed another bridge, one that spanned two sections of a street that was filled with fruit stands. He found himself staring downward, looking for tell tall signs of transgenics swimming in the water. The feeling of being watched crept over him once more, the gathering daylight doing nothing to dispell it.

JC continued walking, lost in his own brooding thoughts when he nearly walked right into a barricade. He looked to his left, and saw yet another barricade blocking his path. Both had arrows painted on them, which pointed to the right. To the right was a dark tunnel, probably used as storage for the shopkeepers. Nevertheless, it still looked like a public access. He walked on in, casting an apprehensive gaze around the tunnel. He could only see a few feet in front of him, so he couldn't tell the width of the tunnel, but he could see that it wasn't terribly long, the exit being fifteen meters away.

He began to walk...quickly. Something about the place didn't feel right, almost as if there was another presence inside.

When JC reached the middle of the tunnel, it occured to him that the barricades could have been set there delibritely to make sure people were forced to walk through this tunnel. It was also at that moment that he heard a noise. It came from the far left, the place that was ensnared with darkness. It sounded omnious...It was breathing. JC wanted to turn around and leave, but it would leave him haggard and confused, and most importantly, more vulnerable. He continued walking at a steady beat, doing his absolute best to remain calm and alert. Footsteps fell into place behind him. He kept walking. An old childhood feeling came over him, that if he pretended he was invisible, he would actually _become_ invisible. The exit was twenty feet away now, ten paces. He felt for his gun, a growing terror overwhelming him. It felt hard and cold in his hand. The breathing grew into a fevered pitch now, gasping excitedly. The footsteps were loud and heavy, almost like a tank that could walk-

_Gunther_

JC walked on without skipping a beat. The footsteps accelerated with desperate suddeness as he reached the exit threshold. JC walked on out, took out his gun, and pointed it into the darkness. The footsteps had came to an inconclusive halt as soon as he had cleared the exit. The breathing continued. This man, _this mech_ suddenly seemed much more terrifying then he had seemed when JC rescued him from the NSF command center at Liberty Island. He could almost imagine him growling from the darkness "It gave me lemon...", as silly as the thought was.

JC held the magnum into the darkness for at least ten minutes. Absolutely nothing happened. Had he imagined the whole ordeal? Even the breathing had stopped. JC cursed his paranoia. Things would be far clearer without it clouding his mind all the time. If it had been real, then why hadn't Gunther simply strike at once? An odd, terrible feeling came over JC when he realized that Gunther hadn't meant to kill him, at least not in the first place...but to scare the hell out of him...working his paranoia against him, causing him to go mad before he reached the exit.

Real or not, he had to leave at once. He backed away from the tunnel, gun still held outstretched until he came up to the corner. He cleared said tunnel, and walked off. He could of sworn that he heard laughter as he went.

* * *

Walton Simons and Bob Page stood next to each other as they lowered Joseph Manderley's coffin into the cold, cold ground. Walton wanted to laugh outloud at all the things the pastor had said about the son of a bitch, but, with great difficulty, held his tounge.

The United Nations sponsered funeral was taking place at Arlington Cemetary, just a few miles away from the White House. If the coup' was succesful, MJ-12 wouldn't have to live with the godamned secrecy much longer. The unfortunate victims of the UNATCO prison break were all being given the honor of being buried with the likes of the Unknown Soldier and John F. Kennedy.

There had been, of course, lots of tears, "how-do-you-do's" and speech's given from the likes of Page, Walton himself, President Mead, and various UNATCO agent's. Burying the soldiers had been hideously boring, but Walton was enjoying himself as they lowered Manderley down. The old fashioned cunt had finnaly bit the bullet. The only thing that dampened his mood was the constant wailing of Janice Reed, and the fact that he had had to give a speech about him.

Anna Navarre's lowering had been uneventful, thankfully with the absence of Gunther Hermann.

Walton wondered about what was going on with him, anyway. They had sent in Gunther not too long after Agent Vixen, and now they had to depend solely on him, now that Vixen had gone AWOL. Too many unfortunate circumstances to go over, which meant more paperwork. He sighed, hoping that Chow would learn something useful.

_That's a first._ Walton thought to himself. Out of all the council members, the only person Walton could even remotely tolerate was Bob Page, who at that moment was drinking a dark red wine.

Walton excused himself from the ceremonies to go out for a cigarette. An honor guard glared at him as he smoked, but said nothing. Twenty minutes and two packs later, Page and an entourage of various well dressed people came up the path. Walton walked out towards the parking lot, and soon Page fell into step alongside him.

"Any news on Denton yet?", Page asked. They hadn't been allowed to talk during the ceremonies.

"Nothing at all since Vixen fought him."

Page sighed heavily, "And Vixen?"

"There've been reports of a black helicopter flying around, but not much else. She probably ditched it by now." Walton surmised.

Page's beeper suddenly squacked loudly on his belt. He frowned, and pressed a little red button on the front side of the device.

"Page." He said. He listened intently. "Oh?" More listening. His face suddenly lit up, "When?...Did you take care of it?...You shouldn't of let him leave!...I hope for your sake that it works...Goodbye."

"What is it?" Walton asked.

"It's JC, Chow set a trap for him...she even presuaded him to join the Red Arrow's side." Page answered.

"What kind of trap?"

"She wouldn't tell me. I just hope it works. If she fails however, we always have our failsafe."

"Speaking of which, when is that supposed to go online?"

"A day or two at the most. By then we'll be able to sufficently track him."

Page was smiling, as if he knew something that no one else could ever guess.

"I hope so." Walton said.

Page's eyes had sudden glossy look to them, "Oh...I know so."

* * *

Authors Note: Next chapter will hopefully be out soon. 


	16. Old China Hand Bar

_**Deus Ex: The Conspiracy**_

Chapter Sixteen: Old China Hand Bar

Authors Note: This chapter is a bit shorter than my other ones...oh well.

JC Denton passed by the Old China Hand bar, and looked inside. A much more sedate crowd lay inside, chatting pleasently. The clatter of silverware, and smell of finely roasted meat filled JC's senses. The place was crowded. It would be hard for anyone to recognize him.

He walked on in, torn between walking through to the door at the right end and coming out in the market, or staying put to eat. He decided he would get a breakfast in his stomach, at least. He walked up to the bartender, "What do'ya got for breakfast?" He asked in his best carefree tone. It probably didn't sound carefree at all.

The tender' gave him a weird look, then his eyes widdened, knowingly. He smiled, "Ah, a tourist. Well, we have pancakes, noodles, you know."

Good ol' UNATCO academy pancakes. They tasted like cardboard. "I'll take the noodles." JC said.

"Coming right up, milk?"

"Yes, please." JC said.

"Have a seat."

JC sat down near the bar entrance, a strategic location more than anything else. His mind wouldn't leave that dark storage tunnel, the malevolent breathing that revrebrated from inside. For some reason, he wondered if Maggie was alright.

He had to remain vigilant. Hong Kong was still a deathtrap. Everyone he looked at seemed to be staring at him. They all seemed to say, "I know you...you cannot escape my gaze, for it is everywhere."

A little girl tripped near his table and burst into tears, breaking the spell. The father came over and dragged her back up. Her sobbing receeded into short sniffling gasps. She looked into JC's covered up eyes, and giggled. The blue glow probably had her mesmerized. Her father jerked her again, and she was gone. JC suddenly found himself thinking of Sandra Renton, and her problems back in New York. He wondered just what the hell was going on back in America.

JC sat there in silence, his eyes returning to the door, waiting for some dark suited assassin to burst in with a knife. Strange how one dealt this way with such paranoia.

His food came two minutes later, a ring of the bell signaling it's arival. JC took it, and turned back to his seat...Only to find it occupied with a man in a white Triad uniform. He started for that table, as if no one was even there thinking, _Oh what fresh hell is this?_

The man pointed towards the door. It either meant two things. A) Don't go out there, I can't tell you this out loud because they would kill me, or B) Why don't we step outside for a chat?

JC simply ignored him, and sat down across from him. The Triad's eyes narrowed. JC picked at his noodles, looking over at his guest from time to time. Thankfully his eye movements were sheilded by the sunglasses. The Triad coughed, and tapped the leg of the table. JC finished his noodles, and began to sip the milk. A milk moustache soon came up on his lips.

The Triad sighed, and leaned forward, "I messenger of Luminous Path."

JC stayed silent. Looking at him. Something felt funny about this guy.

"Me take you to Path base. Meet with Tracer Tong, yes?"

JC realized that this man was caucsean...his Chinese was almost delibritetly flawed...was is it Chinese? The language perception nanites made it hard to tell, as everything came out in English. The man was speaking English, but the nanites didn't care.

It became apparent to him all at once that he was an imposter.

* * *

"American Airway Flight 971, last boarding call."

Paul Denton sighed from his wheelchair as Decker manuevered him through the door's of LaGuardia Airport. There was still yellow police tape around the entrance to the terminal formerly owned by Lebedev. Miguel and Erin looked over through sunglasses at that place. Miguel simply sniffed tenatively and looked away. Erin stared at it, brooding.

She would randomly burst into crying fits ever since the loss of Young, two day's ago. Paul hoped that wouldn't happen, not here. It would draw unwanted attention.

"I hope you know how much of a big risk we're taking here, Paul." Decker whispered.

"We need to get to Hong Kong tonight. UNATCO's implementing Martial Law. We can't afford to wait much longer." Paul explained for what must have been the eightenth time. Decker sighed, probably feeling the handle of his HMP-90. He hated guns.

"...I hope you also know the risk of stowing away on a transcontinental flight to China." Decker continued.

"It'll work. Jaime's UNATCO access card can get us through."

"What if they already in-validated it?"

"UNATCO can be slow to wake." Paul said, already not believing his own words.

Just then, Jaime, Alex, and Doctor Moreau stepped into view among the busy airport denizens. Nothing out of the ordinary here, no sir. Just a bunch of friends making a rendevous. Without saying anything, they all walked toward the baggage check lane. Jaime flashed his UNATCO security card, and hurried through. The ruse worked. The security staff deactivated the metal detector. The group went through without a hitch.

"See?" Paul said, a trace of smugness in his voice.

Decker's phone suddenly rang, so he went right to it and told Erin to watch Paul. Paul watched him closely, watching the way his eyes wandered and his mouth moved. Something was going on behind his back.

_Have I been betrayed?_ _Have they suffered so much that they just don't want it anymore? _He found that he couldn't blame them. He looked around, waiting to see an MIB shamble up to them, or see airport security draw guns on them. None of those things happened. Decker came back and re-took control of Paul's wheelchair.

"Want to tell me what's going on?" Paul said without looking back at his comrade.

He could almost feel Deckers jaw hitting the floor, "Goddamnit, you're good. Look, myself, and some of the other's aren't so hot about taking an airplane to Hong Kong."

"I'm not either!" Paul exclaimed, "But there's no other c-"

"I've been in contact with Smuggler. He owes the NSF a few favors. He's arranged for us to take a helicopter to Hong Kong." Decker said.

Paul sighed, "Why didn't you tell me this before?"

Decker smiled boyishly, "Surprise, surprise."

Paul nearly groaned out loud. "And where is this alleged helicopter?"

"Smuggler rented out a small helipad we can use. We're heading there now."

Paul settled back into the chair, deep in thought.

"How big is the copter'?" He asked.

"That's the problem, right there. It's can only fit four of us, so the other's will have to take a plane. Jaime will go with the other's, cause of his UNATCO security card. Erin, Miguel and Dr. Moreau will go with you on the chopper. I'll go on the plane to protect Jaime and Alex."

Paul thought the plan over. Decker was deffinately good at planning on short notice... He was probably one of America's most wanted, so it was only natural that he take a more subtle route to China. "Alright, but make sure nothing happens to them, ok?"

"Yeah." Decker said. His eyes seemed unfocused, elsewhere.

They came up to the ticket verification desk, and he, Erin, Miguel and Moreau were promptly diverted to a more western route. Paul watched Jaime flash the card, and they were waved through, going through a connecting tunnel that linked with a large 747. He continued to watch the tunnel, watching for pursuers or anything else of the like. Again, nothing happened.

_You know who I remind myself of? JC._ _Fighting against a world wide conspiracy can certainly do a number on you in terms of sanity. _Paul thought to himself.

They passed another ticket verification desk, just within sight of the transperant set of doors that lead outside. Groups of rioters stood outside, flanked by riot cops on all sides. They were screaming for a cure, which they thought was being transported on one of the planes. None of them were thinking clearly, but Paul couldn't help but sympathise.

Twenty minutes passed slowly as he was wheeled through the airport. Soon enough his group was directed through a set of double doors, and he could see a small single pilot helicopter sitting there. Smuggler stood at the side, speaking with what Paul assumed to be the pilot. Smuggler handed him some cash, and the pilot gave him a wry smile. Smuggler didn't seem too pleased. He turned to the advancing group and offered a wave.

"Having financial trouble, Smuggler?" Paul asked jokingly.

"Be glad I owe you guy's a favor." Smuggler said in his usual monotone voice.

"You coming with?" Erin asked.

"No, I'm going to stay here. The rioting makes good business."

"Just don't get yourself killed." Paul said.

Miguel and Dr. Moreau exchanged pleasentries with the Smuggler, then he departed. The pilot came around and beckoned them inside.

Paul hoped that JC would be able to make contact with Tong by the time they arrived, or they'd be sitting ducks in China...

* * *

"Something wrong?" The imposter said.

It was a pretty dumb mistake, JC reflected. They hadn't counted on the language aug.

At that thought, his hand moved toward his holstered Desert Eagle. He restrained the hand. _Not now_, JC thought. Killing him now would only cause more trouble.

"My english...not good."

He contemplated simply getting up and rushing out, but quickly dispelled that thought. It would simply make the assassins job easier. How funny that would be. Rushing out in a hurry only to get shot right between the eyes with a sniper rifle.

_Sniper Rifle._ JC suddenly realized. By now the bar was probably surronded with thugs of all shapes and sizes. Hong Kong was turning out to be nothing but a fucking death trap for him, and a deluge of bodies all around.

But what if this guy was simply working alone? Trying to get him in the dark where he wouldn't be able to see the otherwise gleaming pistol. Or knife, always makes good for a silent kill.

JC frowned, and rocked the chair back and forth slightly. Paranoia was beginning to seize control of his mind.

_I remember, sir. Punched Elwood in the face, and broke his poor old eighteen year old nose. I thought he was trying to see over my shoulder, you see, sir. During the test. My grades are for me only, of course, right? Mine to gain and mine to keep. I believe that I am, I am...paranoid. Sir. _

JC suddenly felt the urge to throw up, involuntarily clapping a hand over his mouth.

_Ok, first thing you do is that you, you shoot him in the waist, under the table like in the movies. Three times, just to be sure. Then it's a mad dash for the exit! Only you don't go out through the front door, or the back one. Oh, no. We're gonna go out through the freezer, behind the counter. Won't see it coming. Crawl through the rafters. Escape, make them fear you, a dissapearing phantom-_

Behind the counter?

JC turned abruptly from the now thoroughly confused imposter, and looked over towards this counter. There was indeed a path there, a winding hall with a sign that said "Chef and barkeep only."

With great difficulty, he seized all of his scattering thoughts and pulled them back in, while making revisions.

He would get up, very calmly. He would bring his food over to the trash can, and throw it out. Then, he would walk up to the counter, jump over the side, and sprint down the corridor. At best it would leave the assassins only one point of entry, making them far eaiser to dispatch.

JC got up, very quietly. The imposter let out a small gasp, but quickly shut up. JC turned from the table, picking up his tray of food as he went. He walked over to the trash can, and deposited it neatly inside. He heard the imposter stand up.

Without missing a beat, JC turned from the can, and came up to the counter, jumping over it. The bartender gave him an annoyed look and opened his mouth to speak, but at that time everyone else in the bar let out a frightened gasp. JC ducked underneath the counter roughly two seconds before a volley of bullets flew overhead. There was the sound of general chaos as people rushed around to get out of the way. The bartender dropped to the floor, and remained there, cringing.

JC noticed a shotgun near his cowering form, and quickly grabbed it. It was horribly antiquated, possibly dating back to the early twentith century. It was double barreled, lacking the pump action feature common to most present day shotguns. JC had only _read_ about these things, and that was only in litterature, not training. He got it into what he presumed to be it's best firing position, and rose from cover.

The imposter was weilding a small MP6 machine gun, very lightweight and durable. Easily concealed. JC pointed the shotgun at him, and fired. The imposter fell backward to the ground, dazed, but otherwise completely unharmed. JC stared at the gun he was holding, and looked over to the bartender.

"What's this thing loaded with?"

"Er, rocksalt."

JC groaned and tossed the gun at the imposter, taking out his magnum. The man was only bruised by the tossing, but was quickly getting back up. JC released the safty catch, and aimed the pistol. Fired.

The resulting concussive blast split the imposters skull neatly into two pieces, spewing brain matter onto the table behind him. JC turned from the gruesome sight, only to see a small solid blue shaft of light snake into the bar, darting here and there curiously.

_Sniper._ Was the only thing JC could think of.

The light found a womans dark blue jeans, and fired off a round. A neat hole appeared in those jeans, just inches away from a lethal hit. Naturally, the woman began to scream.

_If you leave, innocents are going to die in here._ One part of his mind said.

_Better them than me. _The other part said firmly.

Ah, the old standby. Good VS Evil, left shoulder angel VS right shoulder devil, moral VS amoral.

Against what seemed to be his better judgement, JC stayed. He took out his gas grenade, and tossed it into the gaggle of civilians. It detonated, causing them to go into violent coughing fits, and eye watering. It would make them stay put. A man in a white Luminous Path uniform entered the bar with a large assault gun straped around his neck. JC put a bullet into his head easily.

The blue light wavered around cautiously now, searching for an adequate target. Keeping his mouth shut, JC went over to the door and shut it. The blue light winked away instantly. JC retreated, rubbing the tears out of his eyes from the gas he had to endure. He took out his assault rifle, and waited there. Uneasy footsteps on the outside, behind both doors.

_They're gonna rush._

Both doors slammed open, revealing white suited figures at each one. JC laid the gun on the counter, to use as a recoil absorber, and fired off a long hail of bullets, rapidly switching to both doors between intervals of three seconds. Bodies began to pile up at both doors. A river of blood cascaded from these piles.

Soon the waves ended, leaving silence in the bar, except for the continuous coughing of its civilian residents. The blue light returned reluctantly through the opened doors. JC listened intently. Nothing else moved, or made noise besides that light. It constantly moved itself up above the pile of bodies, meaning that the sniper wasn't in a very good position to make shots. This gave JC an idea.

He took out his own sniper rifle, and crawled over to the mound of bodies, closing his mouth, and ignoring the revolting smell. He laid the rifle along the top most corpse, and peered through the lens. The sniper stood thirty feet away, in clear sight, looking elsewhere. JC fired. Watched his head dissapear in a red mist.

Things moved very fast from there. The effects of the gas grenade wore off, and the people, ignoring the bodies, clambered over each other and the corpses below them to get out. The bartender fainted. A police boat appeared on the water some forty feet away. It was time to book out.

He turned to run through the freezer corridor, but stopped when he saw a small piece of paper on the body of the imposter.

_No time to look at it now, the police are closing in._

He took it and ran.

* * *

Officer Tam disembarked from the canal patrol boat with a curious expression on his face. At least, it would be curious to anyone else who bothered to take a long hard look at him. He was, quite actually, steaming mad. His break had just been interupted by continual reports of a disturbance coming from the Old China Hand bar, so he had (reluctantly) gone off to investigate.

People were running off in all different directions, generally making a ruckus wherever they were indeed running to. He looked over to the bar, and saw a small trail of blood leading from the inside to outside.

Frowning, he unholstered his Type 7 Handgun and advanced slowly.

He had gotten the gun at an estate sale four years earlier, and cherrised it with all his heart. He had claimed seventeen triads with this weapon, so he gave it the respect it deserved by keeping it on him at all times.

It was more Triad violence. He was sure of it. He decided something dark and sinister in his mind. He would kill them all. No handcuffs. No crying "Freeze!" No. He would simply kill them all. They had disturbed his siesta, and they would pay in blood.

Smiling, he entered the bar with the gun raised, and nearly vomitted. There were Luminous Path bodies...everywhere. It was a scene of violence to the extreme. Blood and bullet holes were everywhere, and he noticed the spent shell of a gas grenade lying in the middle of the bar. He backed out of the bar immeadiatly, fingering his radio.

No. He'd be damned if he called for backup _again. _And this time it was an actual crime.

He reentered the bar at a roll, and promptly headbutted a couple of bodies, causing one to lazily roll on top of him. He pushed it off, and got up again. His nice uniform was all bloody now. He continued inside, eying every nook and cranny.

Breathing from behind the counter. He dived behind it, (a little too overdramatically) and nearly fell into a feinted bartender. He growled, and cast a hot gaze around the room. It was, except for its late occupants, completely empty. He sighed, and heard a sudden noise down a hall he hadn't even regarded before. An icy gaze slithered down his neck as he looked over to it. It lead to the freezers.

Releasing the safty, he ran down the corridor, and raised the handgun as soon as he cleared the corner. Only a kitchen. He opened the refrigerators one by one, but still found nothing.

Extraordinarily confused and irritated at this point, he turned to one last hallway.

_Ha!_

A man in a dark trenchcoat was in this hallway, picking the lock on what seemed to be the freezer. But as soon as Officer Tam noticed him, the lock snapped and fell off, forcing the door to swing open. The trench coated phantom disapeared into the freezer. Tam ran down the corridor, eager not to lose his suspect, and went through the still open door.

Inside was a group of crates marked "Cold Cuts", as well as a platoon of slaughtered hanging pigs. The phantom was on the uppermost crate, unhinging a small ventillation hatch. Tam raised the Type 7.

"Freeze!" He was contradicting his earlier resolution, he knew, but something felt funny about this guy. Now thay he had a long hard look at him, he saw that the man had a jumpsuit underneath that trenchcoat, as well as a 50. AE hanging from his belt. He was wearing a pair of slick, expensive looking aviators. He was also causcean. It occured to Tam that this man might be a Western spy.

Oh, what a thing that would be. A major foreign intelligence scandal, no doubt. Very political. He could almost smell the promotion.

At that moment he caught sight of the mans neck as he turned to look at Tam. Blue biolelectrics ran down to his body.

_Oh no, he's bio mechanically augmented._ It wouldn't matter though. He, afterall, was the one with the gun.

The man had the hatch in his hand. Tam just realized it. Without a word, or even a sound, the man flinged the hatch into Tam, sending him to the ground. Oh how the tables can turn.

Tam let out a yelp of agony as the man crawled into the ventillation shaft, and with him, his promotion.

* * *

JC ran(well, crawled) down the shaft at a steady pace as he left the officer on the ground in the freezer. He felt poorly about it, but he wasn't going to be apprehended by the likes of the Military Police. Especially those who took bribes. Not that he was against that, in theory, but he didn't want someone to buy him into the wrong hands. There was a woman who had been falsely accused of a crime, and she had gotten sold off to a heroin trader as she was being brought in by sampam. She spent four years as a sex slave before she managed to get away, and subsequentally got the man who had kept her killed. She was a major player in the Chinese liberal party now.

JC rounded the corner, and continued, coming out into a small maitenance tunnel that hung over the canal. It was made of steel mesh, and was too tightly knit to pull open. He wondered where this path would lead to.

A few more feet, and he was inside a small room that sported a ladder going downward, and a locked door. He chose the ladder, and was surprised to step into water as he worked his way down. He rummaged in his trenchcoat, looking for tools, and found a rebreather inside.

Rebreathers were small mouth pieces that provided a user with a limited supply of oxygen while on short dives. They were dispensible, and easily manufactured, so they were typically provided to Agents and the civilian populace.

He activated the oxygen feed, and plunged underwater. There must of been a flooding here or-

He came out into a long tunnel, filled to the brim with broken cars and other assorted vehicles. All of it was under water. JC suddenly remembered reading about a tunnel collapse in the paper while he had been searching for Tracer Tong in the market. Triad violence was the cause.

He swam on, peering in vehicles as he went. Most were not a pretty sight. Rotting bodies lay inside the cars, bare teeth grinning at him as he swam. Further along he came up to a green car with the VersaLife logo on both front doors. The right hand door was open, which was strange as all the other ones had been closed. The pressure of the flooding water would have negated any attempts to flee. This guy must have been lucky.

Something appeared to be moving in the back seat. Scaly, and brown. The word "Karkian" registered in JC's mind just a second before the small beast burst out of the car, snapping its jaw at him. JC screamed, nothing really audiable under the mouth piece and the water, but a scream nonetheless. He swam back as the thing got a bearing on its surrondings, and turned to face him. JC took out his combat knife, and swam to the side as the thing darted through the water at him like a shark. It swung around to face him, and let out a muffled roar.

JC moved his hand out to stab it, but was too slow underneath the water to do any damage. Instead, the infant transgenic bit his arm. JC grimaced in pain, and stabbed the knife into the karkians side as it was busy with his arm. It screamed, and released its hold, glancing at the wound. JC moved underneath the transgenic, and grabbed its head. It roared in agitation. JC got the knife under its cranned skull, and slit its throat. Dark blood instantly poured out of its neck, and filled JC's vision for a breif moment as the monster screamed in its throes of death. He felt the things movements go slack, and he let go. The carcass drifted to the top of the tunnel, and remianed there, twitching.

JC looked into the car again, and saw a batch of broken, green eggs inside.

_Perfect_. JC thought cynically.

He backed out of the car, and looked up. The tunnel seemed to go upward from here, at a slant. He drifted up there, and came out, finnaly, to an air pocket. A rather large air pocket at that. Two cars lied up there, looking broken and shattered, inside and out. He saw movement to the far end. He squinted. A gaggle of infant karkians were struggling over...something. It might have resembled a human at one time.

JC took out his sniper rifle, and used the hood of one of the broken down husks to absorb recoil. He began to fire, watching the monsters little heads shatter one by one. The karkians were so enraveled in this...meat that they didn't notice the death of their breatheren. Indeed, two of them started arguing over one part of their kill, and this soon turned into a violent struggle, in which they tore each other apart.

JC shot the last one, and made his way over to the body. A book lay on a piece of wreakage nearby. JC read through it, identifying the husk of meat as the remnants of a VersaLife employee. An augmentation canister lay near the book, so he picked that up and read the label. The nanites inside were apparently designed for optic manipulation, which JC translated to cloaking and thermal masking. He put it in his trench coat, making a mental note to find a medical robot later. He also found a small pistol, which had a laser sight attached to it. JC applied it to his assault rifle, and moved off.

When he found a suitable piece of wreakage, he sat down and took out the note he had found on the imposter, which was kept in a sandwich bag to avoid waterlogging. The scrawlings were english, and written in near perfect handwriting.

_Dear Robert Halloway_

_I have received confirmation that you accepted my offer on the bounty for JCD. A suitable place to set your ambush would be near the market entrance, around the Old China hand bar. We don't know where Denton is, but you are to stay at that area at all times from here on out. Along with this letter are a grouping of Luminous Path Triad uniforms. Improvise, please. I'll leave the method of capture/assassination up to you. This should go without saying, but failure is NOT an option. Destroy this letter as soon as you had read it._

_Sincerely,_

_Maggie Chow._

JC crumpled up the letter and tossed it into the water. For some reason his temples began to burn. He actually felt like screaming, very hard and loud.

"Betrayed, played out, conned." JC muttered. He kicked a nearby piece of wreakage. "FUCKING BITCH!"

He felt as if he had found someone he could finnaly trust, and here, bright as day, was the evidence that proved that he was being played. Suddenly he was all for believing Gordon Quick.

JC calmed down gradually after a minute, and sat down to plan out his next move. It was obvious that Chow was with MJ-12 now. Fine. High ranking probably. Fucking wh-

_Stop that._

JC believed that the sword was in her home, but where? He hadn't made even the slightest move to check the apartment, which had been a foolish move. Everything about it was foolish.

_How did I let myself get conned like that? You weren't thinking._

He would have to go back, he decided. It was the only thing he could do.

* * *

Maggie Chow rode the elevator up to the rooftop of the Queens Tower, and was promptly let out to see a sleek black helicopter in wait for her.

She was in a fine mood. She was going to the VersaLife for a lengthy research sesion on the sword technology, but there wasn't much to complain about there. She was also confident that Denton would be, or already had been, taken care of.

Yes, nothing wrong here. She stepped into the helicopter, and put on her digital music radio around her neck.She listened intently as the helicopter lifted from the ground, and began its smooth journey to the VersaLife building.

Of course, she never noticed the black jumpsuited figure walk out of the shadows of the helipad, and enter the elevator. How could she have?

Authors Note: More coming soon.


	17. The Queens Tower

_**Deus Ex: The Conspiracy**_

Authors Note: insert authors note

Chapter Seventeen: The Queens Tower

JC Denton stepped through the doors of the Queens Tower and looked around. The receptionist was busy staring up at a television screen that was hoisted to a low part of the otherwise extremely tall ceiling. He glanced at him, and went back to the netball game he was watching. The screen was hazy, a drawback from being broadcasted from the moon itself.

Netball was an enginous, if needless, new sport that resembled volleyball in form and function. The differences being a set of slightly different rules, and the fact that it was played in zero gravity. That is, played inside a large ultra-reinforced plastic dome that lay on the moons surface. The moon wasn't used for much more than an extremely profitable mining quarry, and several brave colonists who elected to test the moons surface for quality of living. China had invested much into this program, with a strong nod towards removing a sizable portion of it's astronomically huge populace. So far no huge difficulties were experianced, apart from the generic reactions of being in space for a long period of time. Netball was extremely popular at the time, most likely due to it's exotic location, so many people had made money off of the moon so far in both mining and entertainment.

The receptionist cursed loudly as the screen went completely snowy for a few seconds. He turned back to JC while blushing, and apologized curtly. "Is there something you need, sir? It's a bit early, so I don't think we'll be taking reservations for-"

"Is Maggie Chow around?"

"Miss Chow? She should be. I'll ring for her right now." He moved off, fingering the intercom.

"Miss Chow?...Oh, sorry...I see. Well, there's a visitor for her-Send him up? Of course," The intercom snapped off, "Elevators to your left as you go-" He looked at JC hard, "Are you wet, sir?"

JC looked down at himself. He had not dried just yet."Yeah, I am.", he said, nonchalantly.

"Well...You know, I don't think it'll be a big deal, just dry off in the rec room down the hall." He turned back to the netball game.

JC walked on down the corridor, ignoring the rec room and going straight into the elevator, punching the appropriate code in. What did he care if he got her carpet all wet? The elevator ascended quickly, a little red panel ticking off each floor as it went. JC took out his magnum, and whipped it down dry with his hand. He checked the firing mechanism, and reloaded it. All went smoothly. He attached the silencer kept in his left pantleg, and loaded a 10mm clip into the weapon. There wasn't much left in the clip. Released the safety.

9...10...11...12...13...14...15

_Ding!_

The doors slid open. JC stepped out into Maggie Chows apartment, and nearly fell right into her dead maid.

* * *

_Login: MChow_

_Password: May-Sung_

_Wait please...Access Denied._

Vixen cursed for eigth time as she sat down at Chow's personal computer. The computer only allowed ten access denials before the alarm sounded, and she was nearly down to the last straw. She pressed her hands against her head, involuntarily humming to herself.

Her former password was Tai-Fun. Fine. She'd percured that information from a datacube after a thorough check of the apartment. She'd had to liquidate the maid, hardly a challence, but an annoying one. With any luck, they'd cast the blame on someone like Denton, though. Several datacubes here and there, but nothing that seemed awfully important.

_Login: MChow_

_Password:..._

She thought for a moment, and decided to go on and guess again. What the hell?

_Login: MChow_

_Password: Dragons Tooth_

_Wait please...Access Denied._

V swore, and leaned back in her chair, her eyes catching the two books that lay on the conference table. So much expensive crap in one fairly small apartment. Chow certainly knew how to live.

V got up, and picked up the closest book.

**Tai-Fun**

Everything you wanted to know about organized Chinese crime, but never found out, V thought to herself. Smiling wryly, she put the book down, and looked over to the other one.

**Insurgent**

Vixen looked down in frowning concentration. According to the cube' she'd found in the maids room, these were her two favorite books. This gave her an idea.

She rushed over to the computer terminal again, and went to the login page.

_Login: MChow_

_Password: Insurgent_

_Wait please..._

V bit her lip.

_Access Granted, Welcome Miss Chow._

_Score one for the gal's back home._ V though triumphantly.

She clicked on the local surveillance icon, and a platoon on holographic screens rose up in front of her. She scrolled through the different images. Nothing. She exited and clicked the News Bulletin icon.

_A tirad of violence has swept over Hong Kong lately leading off from the deaths of two foreign agents in the Wan Chai Golden Plaza..._

She skipped over Dentons earlier escapades, and looked for the words "black helicopter."

_...A host of bodies were found just outside of the VersaLife building in Wan Chai earlier this morning. Experts say that the victims were likely thrown from the top of the sixty story VersaLife facility. Among the dead was the head of the United Nations security force, George Walter. A crashed helicopter was also located underneath the busier sections of the Wan Chai canal, no suspects verified as of yet._

Vixen sighed in relief. That was one thing off her back.

_Now for my insurance._

She selected "Building surveillance", and scrolled through the camera images. Hallway cameras...lobby entrance...JC Denton heading for the elevator...two people chatting inside the rec room-

_Hold the phone._

She went back to the elevator camera, and saw nothing. Damn! Had she been hallucinating? She felt awfully stressed that morning-

_No. You don't hallucinate. He was there and you saw him._ It was time to book out. She bit her lip hard enough to draw blood, and continued through the cameras at a more quickened pace. The third image was of a large gun metal grey room with a small triangular plastic covering in the middle. Inside was a simple brown and gold hilt.

_The Dragons Tooth._ V thought with a grin. The plan was to steal the thing so she would have a sizable barginning chip with MJ-12 after she'd apprehended Denton. If she managed to get the jump on him here...she'd be killing two birds with one stone. She heard the elevator doors open downstairs, and logged out of the computer. She left the conference room, and went down the stairs, finnaly hiding behind the glass Buddha case. Footfalls near the elevator, with a sudden pause. She heard a gun being carried out of its holster. She waited.

Denton came out into the room, casting his gaze around the elegant living room. V considered taking out her silenced pistol, but thought better of it. She was infinitely mad at this man, so the urge was tempting. He crossed the room, and headed up the stairs without seeing her. Letting out a breath, she instantly darted out, activating her optic camoflauge. She slinked into the dining room, and looked around. The secret passage was somewhere around here. She had read about it in one of the cubes' in Chow's room. Her intuition had told her that it was where the Sword was, but she just had to be sure.

She drifted to the walls, looking for anything even remotely suspicous, while keeping her ears perked to the upstairs. Silent creaking on the floorboards, barely indisdinguishable from the settling of an old house, but she was able to pick up the faint signs of steadiness in those creaks. Their decisivness.

At the far corner, she found a little paper lantern hanging there. Frowning, she gently brushed it. Nothing. She tried rotating it, and was surprised to see a section of the wall slide past with a loud "click."The footsteps upstairs came to a halt, and began to move in the opposite direction, back toward the stairs. V continued through the secret passage, the same gun metal grey that had been in the surveillance camera. Two entrances led off from each other at the end. A large industrial looking door with a keypad, and a laser trip wired corridor to her right. Examining the keypad, she saw only three incision keys inside the interface, meaning that you could only put in three figures as a code. She thought back to the cubes' she'd found, and came up with something. Chow's birthday. June 18th. She punched in 718, and hit the activation key.

Hydraulics sputtered and hissed as the door opened, while Vixen admired her clever stature. She fitfully reminded herself of the dangers of being coneited(and knowing it), but thought _What the hell? I deserve this after the week I've been having._

Looking inside, she saw the triangular case that kept the Dragons Tooth. She stepped inside, deactivating her cloak to conserve power, and immeadiatly wished she hadn't. Five MJ-12 soldiers greeted her. All of them except for one kept their guns pointed away from her. That one was armed with an experimental plasma rifle, a hefty piece of equipment, but completely devastating in any form of combat. It was trained on her head.

"Your I.D." The one without any helmet hissed. He had metallic silver hair, and bright blue eyes. He was also the one with the plasma rifle. He was probably one of the ones with those fancy code names that The Organization used to please the more religious members of the society. "Chosen of the Astral Divine", or "Keeper of Sacred Forbideness." Since The Organization WAS an offshoot of the Illuminati, she supposed that it made sense, given all the biblical clearences, and religious codenames, but the people on the Council couldn't be bothered with it. Like Bob Page and Walton Simons, they made fancy speechs and all, but she could tell that they were just in it for the boundless power.

She fished around in her pocket, and pulled out a digital card that carried a read-out of every piece of genetic information on her person, not to mention her rank and profile. Plasma frowned as he inserted the card into his carriable datacube, and observed the holographic read-out. He smiled as soon as he had finished, obviously pleased with himself now.

"You are a traitor of the Divine. Therefore you must die." He said, arming the plasma gun. He pulled a few switchs on the right hand side of the weapon, and allowed it to charge. Green light seathed through the little vents kept on the top to avoid overheating. This was going to be painful for her. Plasma began to chant. The others were silently laughing at her, their mouths being the only things to see under the helmet they wore. All smiles.

Adrenaline pumped through her vains. She concentrating on thinking of how to get out of here. In doing this, she pulled her attention away from the quivering plasma rifle, and suddenly heard a sudden footfall behind her. She dodged to the right, tucking forward into a shoulder roll as a 10mm round passed the area where her waist had been. Plasma gasped as she rolled, and started to move the plasma gun before he, and the two closest MJ-12 soldiers were suddenly, and painfully, incinerated in a blinding explosion of green light.

Vixen didn't bother to even think about the circumstances under which that had occured, and instead chose to unholster her silenced pistol. She aimed at the first soldiers chest and fired twice. The first round pinged safely off of fortified armor, but the second hit an vulnerable location, the waist. He let out a cry of pain, sinking to the floor. Another shot to the head killed him. A 10mm round burst from the secret passage, tossing the second soldier back in a heap of blood. The last one ducked into another room, outside of this one, and remained there in cover.

A lam poped out a few seconds later. Vixen picked it's pulsing body up, careful not to drop it. It shook fitfully in her hands, a new, and rather clever piece of engineering built into all active grenades nowadays. The explosive would shake agressivly as soon as it was armed, making it difficult for the enemy to toss a grenade back to the original thrower. She kept a steady grip on it, and tossed it down the secret passage corridor. Rapid footfalls running back into the dining room. The LAM exploded, sending gnarled pieces of metal hurling into the large room Vixen was in. She heard the heavy oakwood floor inside Chow's dining room give way and collapse.

Excellent.

Vixen activated the thermoptic's she had, and ran into the adjorning room. The MJ-12 soldier was peeking back curiously. Vixen put the barrel of her gun directly against his mouth, and he screamed. She forced the gun through his screaming mouth, knocking a few teeth away, and fired. His head concaved against the back of the helmet, and she pulled the gun out of the ruined mess that had been his skull. She looked past the broken corridor of the secret passage, and saw Denton on the other side. He gestured to his pistol, which happened to be empty. She looked at her own, and saw that it, too, was dry. She reached for another clip, as Denton did the same.

While doing this, she spoke to him outloud, "Fancy trick there, with the Plasma rifle. You have good aim."

"That was an accident, actually. I was aiming for you. He was an idiot to keep that thing overcharged." He responded, fingering a new clip. They looked at each other, and simutaneously rolled into cover. "What are you doing here?" He called out.

"Same thing you are, I should expect."

"The Sword."

"Give me one good reason why it'd be better off in your hands." She slammed the new magazine home, and rolled out of cover, only to see that he had done the same. They fired at the same time, both shots going wide. Denton crouched to better his aim, while she outstretched her gun arm. "Fastest finger, now." Denton said. They fired. Vixen felt a sensation like a baseball bat hitting her shoulder, and saw Denton flinch. They settled this short dispute by hiding again. Vixen glanced at her shoulder, saw a mess of blood, and felt no sensation from it. She took out a medkit from her pocket, and inserted a needle into the shoulder. Crude nanite beings closed the wound painfully, leaving the blood behind. She groaned.

"Well, to answer your question, I intend to hand it over to it's rightful owners, and end the Triad dispute. You didn't kill Chow, did you?"

_Well, isn't HE a boyscout now? _"No."

"Good."

She smiled at this. Despite what they told themselves, deep down, the nano augs were still killing machines. "If you must know, I plan on using the sword as a blackmail item against Majestic Twelve."

"I thought you were working for them."

"Were being the keyword."

"Somehow I doubt you want to stay their enemy."

"You're sharp...Believe me, it's like being with the mob. You betray them, and you're as good as dead. That's why I need to bring you in, dead or alive." She rolled out of cover again, delivering two rounds only to realize that he wasn't there. She waited. When he failed to show for at least one minute, she got up and frowned. Klaxons blared suddenly, and she looked behind her to see the Desert Eagle being pressed against her forehead. The alarms rang out irritatingly as he raised his eyebrows twice. She waited for the bullet to enter her brain. None did.

"This is going to sound strange to you..."Denton said.

_Oh, my lord...He doesn't really think..._

"Why don't you join us? You don't seem to be pleased with your current position-"

"Cut it out. I _want_ to be back with Majestic Twelve. I can't help that they can't stand failures."

"They've only tested you on me, so I can sympathise, I guess."

"Jee, thanks." She said.

"...Who are you, exactly?"Denton suddenly said.

"Codename is Vixen. Even shorter codename is V."

Denton sighed, "I meant your real name."

"...What did you plan to do with the Sword, again?"

"Let's stay on topic."

"No, seriously."

Denton sighed again, "I'm going to hand it over to as evidence against the Luminous Path-" He suddenly turned his attention to the area behind Vixen. She peered over there, and saw nothing.

* * *

"Greetings, JC Denton. This is Tracer Tong. I have been monitering you through this fascinating device in your skull. Kill the woman, and get the sword, it should be behind you kept inside a large triangular plexiglas case."

The infolink snapped off. His first transmission with the man whom he had strived so much to come into contact with, and already he was telling him what to do. He looked at Vixen, and felt his grip on the gun falter. He remembered Lebedev.

_Are you kidding me? We're not dealing with a freedom fighter here, this, THIS is the terrorist. Here right in front of you. She deserves to die, gun or no gun._

_**You'd be just like Anna Navarre and Walton Simons. She seem's intelligent enough. Perhaps there's hope.**_

JC closed his eyes, very hard, doing his best to keep the humanity from creeping into them. Yeah, like that would help.

_You're too human._

_**That's exactly what they want you to think.**_

"You're coming with me. Whether you like it or not." JC said. He gestured to the computer bank that held the controls to the case. "Unlock it."

He went up to the rim of the case, keeping his gun trained on her as she punched a set of numbers into a nearby keypad. A beeping noise emanted from inside, and the covering slowly lifted.

"Good...now take that to the Lucky Money Club and show it to Max Chen, leader of the Red Arrow. You really must dispatch the woman, though."

JC took the sword, and turned. "I'm not going to just kill an unarmed prisoner." Same choice of words as last time. He heard Vixen snort from behind, "An infolink, huh? Your new masters aren't any better than us." She said.

"You'll regret this, JC Denton." Tong admonished. "Go, the Lucky Money is only a block away from where you are located."

They were alone again. Vixen sighed, "Why not just kill me now? I'm not going to go ahead with you any-"

There was a sudden loud banging from the roof. A section of the ceiling was dented. The dent became larger as another bang resonated from up there. Another, and a large black and grey hand punched through the ceiling, grasped a piece of it, and peeled a section of it away.

Gunther Hermann stared down at them, and lifted a very large flamethrower.

"Jesuschirst!" Vixen yelled. JC leaped to the left as Vixen did the same to the right as the two ton UNATCO agent plunged to the floor. Hellish flames suddenly billowed bright orange as Gunther used the flamethrower. JC's trenchcoat caught on fire, and he rolled to the ground quickly, and up again to put it out. He had no agressive defense augmentation, so he was completely vulnerable to the huge flamethrower. Only ten seconds ago he'd been talking to Tracer Tong, and now he was being put aflame by this beheamoth.

The flames died for a single moment as Gunther turned to face him, completely ignoring Vixen. JC activated his speed aug and ran to the right as fire engulfed the area where he had just been. The metal floor shined bright as the flames flew. JC could hear Gunther laughing sinisterly as he spun around, sending torrents of fire everywhere.

* * *

Vixen turned and ran into the rec room as JC took cover behind the computer bank. She unholstered her pistol, and fired at Agent Hermann. Two shots caught him in the back, and he turned around with a bemused expresion on his face. She ran out of the room through the laser trip door as fire completely enveloped everything inside.

He was carrying one of the new prototype flamethrowers that the brass was thinking of putting on the Bravo Three military robots. It was a terrifying mixture of the plasma put into the PR-6 and the regular jellified liquid put into regular DragonBreath flamethrowers. The result was a flamethrower with a devastating range and area of effect, and a fast burning plasma spew. Naturally, it was extremely heavy, which was why it was suggested for Bravo Three's only. Of course, Agent Hermann gave the word "strength" a whole new meaning.

She heard him leap into the still burning room, and trudged off after her. He was playing cat and mouse, not caring who he chased. It was all an exhillirating experiance for him. She dived into the room where the Dragons Tooth was kept, and rolled to avoid a wild torrent of flame from behind. Her back felt horribly burned. She ran over to where Denton was, and she looked at him in the eye, or rather the sunglasses. There was no longer any hate for each other there, at least not for now. They rose at the same time, and saw Hermann advancing on them.

"Trapped like little mice." He growled. "Such a pity you die so easily." He turned the flamethrower on them.

* * *

JC grabbed Vixen and rolled to the left with her as flames shot out to the computer bank. There was the sound of melting circuitry followed by heavy snaps. A second later it exploded, sending pieces of metal and plastic everywhere. Gunther advanced on their currently inert forms, and raised the flamethrower, no doubt planning on bludgeoning them.

They both rolled in opposite directions as the heavy weapon plunged through metal and infrastructure. Gunther pulled the weapon out easily, and looked at it. It looked badly damaged, but he ignored it. JC lay panting on the floor, as Vixen pulled herself up. Gunther turned and doused JC in flames.

At least, that was what he planned to do. The nozzle of the flamethrower was bent at an upward angle now, so fire spewed out towards the ceiling, burning away pieces of plaster and metal. Gunther grunted at the useless thing, and tossed it to the ground, causing a small dent there. He pulled out a PS20 one-use plasma pistol, and fired at Denton. He screamed as the burning plasma impacted his chest, sending him flying backward a good four feet. He patted his chest so as to put out the fire there, and felt an intensely hot sensation there.

Gunther let out a loud roar of anger and charged him, bowing his head. His eyes burned with insane rage. JC rolled to the side, and lay there, unwilling to do anything else. Gunther impacted the wall, head first, and, quite comically, had it stuck there. He billowed with rage, and struggled to free himself. JC crawled away from there, holding his chest while bits of plaster fell from the wall as Gunther struggled.

"GET THE FUCK BACK OVER HERE! DAMNITDAMNIT!" He screamed.

JC heard the cocking of a gun. He looked up to see Vixen staring at him, with her silenced pistol pointed at his head. JC closed his eyes, collapsing to the ground, overwhelmed with how everything had gone to shit so quickly.

Five seconds passed, and a hand reached out to pull him up. He accepted it, and together they limped out of the the horribly burning room.

* * *

Roughly twenty seconds later, Gunther freed himself from the wall and cursed his lack of forethought. He had let his anger completely overwhelm him, blind him, and most importantly, made him fail to achieve victory. He would ask for another upgrade when he returned.

_Anny wasn't like that. She was strong willed, intelligent, calculating. Everything I'm not._

"I'm so sorry, Agent Navarre." He whispered, barely audible among the cacophony of the burning room. He got up to his feet, and looked around. He rushed out of the burning room, dully noting the absence of the Dragons Tooth Sword. Godamnit.

He came out to the sunlit skylight of Chow's living room, and turned toward the elevator, looking at the status icon. Busy. It was of no use anyway. He wasn't armed, and how could he exact his terrible revenge without a proper weapon? He turned back to the the living room and drifted inside. The fires were getting fiercer. He estimated that the entire apartment would burn down soon. Just another event for the newshounds. It would be no doubt blamed on Denton, increasing his already lucrative bounty.

Sitting down at a mahogany bench overlooking the skylight, he sat by, and watched the city, and the morning sun that played over it. It felt strangely soothing to look into. Would Anna have felt a similar reaction?

_No, and why do you bother sitting here anyway?_

He made no move to leave. He remained there for five more minutes, and left after that, when the fires moved into the apartment itself.

Authors Note: Da Wucky Money will be visited next.


	18. The Lucky Money

_**Deus Ex: The Conspiracy**_

Authors Note: The first itteration follows both of JC and Vixens perspectives at the same time.

Chapter Eighteen: The Lucky Money Club

"Quick, here comes another one."

JC Denton and Vixen backed into a disused back alley, away from the squad car that came screeching down the road. Vixen remained motionless while JC fidgeted uncomfortably, groaning in pain. When she was certain that they hadn't been spotted, she turned to JC with a sigh.

"I thought you were supposed to be a special agent. Didn't you learn how to stay quiet?"

"During...training they subjected us to multiple levels of virtual reality pain modifiers, and tested our ability to resist interrogation or to keep quiet when having been shot. None...of those...included being hit by a...PS20 at point blank range..."

"I _thought_ you had a regeneration augmentation." She said sardonically. Two Military Policemen on hover scooters zipped past. "You sure know how to make a scene...", She added silently.

"Your _bosses_...have made sure that after a certain time I can't use them...The killswitch."

"And it's affecting you _now_?"

"This hasn't been the best week for me."

They had already used the last batch of medkits on his badly burnt chest, but none of those things were conditioned to cope with plasma wounds. All in all, it was a pretty annoying situation. This made her growing plan even less likely to even happen.

As for JC, well, he felt terrible. Not to say that he hadn't felt worse, but those had been easy to repair with regeneration and medkits. Everytime he moved it was like his body was set aflame. He cursed Gunther Hermann, and by extension, the dead spirit of Anna Navarre. Not to mention Manderley, for good measure. He decided to throw in MJ-12 as well, for the sake of variety.

V tapped him, and they shoved off again, passing through the alleyway, and back onto the city streets, where cars, modern or not, blew past, making JC's trenchcoat billow everytime. Vixen consulted a city map she'd found near the Queens Tower, and looked back up, not really seeing anything she wanted to see in particular. A sub-conscious act, really. The Zan Go Heavens Mall was about two blocks away, not a bad walk, but annoying when helping a six foot tall superhuman around. She looked at his face, wanting, sadistically, to see him cringing and whimpering. He only showed a mild discomfort, probably a trained expression to mask great pain.

They had left the burning Queens Tower about an hour ago, hopefully with Agent Hermann along with it, but JC couldn't get his hopes up. Police cars were going to and fro, stopping and interrogating people at random, so they hid everytime one came by. It would only be a matter of time before a full scale search was initiated to search for him, most likely under orders from The Conspirators. He sighed unhappily. He stopped for a moment, to fell himself. It still felt like touching a white hot burning flame. He groaned involuntarily at the sensation, and took a gasping breath.

"They better have a cold bath..." JC mumbled.

_Oh enough. Get to the point already. Why didn't she kill you? Certainly not for the sake of being a good person, hell no. She must need me for something._

The pair walked along another several hundred feet, and V consulted the map again.

"Well?" Said JC.

She lowered the map, and looked to her right. Sure enough, there was a sign in Chinese, and an even smaller one in English that read "Zan Go Heavens Mall." She grinned, and lead him down.

"Down here, shouldn't be much longer."

They went down, not noticing the single dark colored man in an equally dark suit in the shadows of the high rise building that the stairs led down through.

* * *

Agent Jackson smiled through his dark blue gas mask as Micheal reported in, his snake like voice filling the interior of the black van, for all its occupants to hear. 

"Headed down into the Zan Go Heavens Mall, presumably to meet with the Dragon Head of the Red Arrow. Infared nano scoping shows presence of the sword on D-02's person. Please advise, over."

"Roger that." Jackson said, fingering his Commando Suit intercom, "ETA?"

"Infared scopes show that they're already near the club, over."

"Excellent, you go down there and tell us when they're meeting with the Dragon Head. You leave the rest up to us, over."

"Will do, over and out."

Jackson looked through the nightvision sensors at the ten some Commando's inside the van, with a grin that was shared only with himself.

Today, they'd have him cornered, and no augmentations would save him now.

* * *

"For decades, we've lived in Peace, Harmony, and, of course, in the endless pursuit of happiness," Walton Simons addressed to the seething crowd of New Yorkers around him. There was about, something like a thousand spectators in Times Square all listening intently. 

Most of them were, of course, winos, bums, hobos, you name it, they were all the looked down upon masses. They were here for one thing, and that was to find out if a cure was going to relinquished by the Government unto the people. Of course, no such thing would be happening any time soon, so the entire thing was kept hush hush. No one knew, other than the Council of Twelve, what Walton was about to announce.

So far, it had been a long haul for him, or in this case, a short one, if you wanted to look at it time wise. But being given the position of UNATCO Cheif, the Director of FEMA, and US public relations spokesman certainly gave one a hell of a lot to do. He found it terribly tedious, though, giving speechs to the masses. The masses themselves were probably scared shitless at his appereance, so he got the silence, however disgusted, that he commanded.

"New York has been a fine example of such declerations. Such a fine history this city has had, indeed." He felt infinitely silly, wasting his breath on the ignorant masses, but it had put out as his job to declare what needed to be declared here. He wasn't sure if it had been an order from the ignoramus President Mead, or Page himself. "In the birthing days of our nation, you were our countries first capital, a great honour indeed, and then you had the even greater one of holding the symbol of our nation in your harbour, the Statue of Liberty."

_Or the _Late_ Statue of Liberty..._

"The worlds first skyscapper, the worlds tallest skyscraper, at one point considered the greatest City in the World...All of that, until now, with this horrible plague, that has had such an unfaltering and tragic effect here, that Central Park is being used as a mass grave. Now there is mass rioting, killings in the street, city policemen being murdered everyday for the sake of searching for a non-existant cure?"

Senator Gates smiled knowingly through the crowd.

"Action must be taken." Walton said loudly. He could almost feel the snipers gaze on him, he thought with a silent laugh. He was, of course, in a completely transparent bullet proof box. The public had no idea. So far he'd counted at least two muzzle flashes from the roofs of several buildings. The bullets simply pinged off.

Apprehension swept through the crowd, not knowing what to expect. Walton had the sudden desperate urge to smoke a cigarette. A whole pack, if need be.

"That is why," he continued, "...for the first time since the birth of our nation, a city must be placed under Martial Law."

General gasps were heard. The two Bravo Three's nearby activated, and started to spew out warnings to the crowd. Order maintained...for the moment. Most of these people probably didn't know what the hell martial law even was, but they damn well knew that it probably meant no more free trips to the pub in search of sympathizers.

"President Mead is deeply apologetic for having to resort to such desperate measures, but for now there seems to be no other way.

He switched his tone to a more business like one, which suited him far more greatly than speech giving, "A curfew will be issued at around 4:00 PM tommorow evening. This curfew extends from 6:00 AM to 8:00 PM. Any civilians found out on the streets in violation of this curfew will be subject to arrest or shot on sight. Let this be your final warning."

General murmers of fear through out the crowd. Good...

"From this point onward, the city will be divided up into security grids. You must have a pass to enter certain sectors. All violators will be shot on sight. You are to remain in your specified section until Martial Law status has been lifted."

More muzzle flashes.

"From now on, every citizen will be given a full weeks worth of city rations given the amount of work effort and civil productivness he contributes to your sector. This will help set the stage for lifting Martial Law status. Some establishments will also be closed until the lifting of Martial Law status. You will be given a memo if you own an establishment marked for closure."

He leaned forward, taking a drink from his glass of water. "Stay loyal, stay safe...report all criminal activity to the NYPD. This will all be over before you know it. Good night, New York."

He turned and opened up the box, and stepped briskly into his bullet proof limo. The riot cops and bot's quickly herded the secptators out of the area, and Walton told the driver to wait.

Two hours passed. Walton was a patient man. He could afford to wait for what he wanted to do. Soon enough, Times Square was completely empty, save for the two Bravo Three's patroling the area. Walton tipped the driver, and told him to go home, ignoring his protests as he stepped out of the car. He walked toward a large department store, now closed off and long since abandoned. His pace didn't change as the muzzle flashes began again. They, unfortunately, were also patient men.

Activating his strength augmentation, he plowed through the door, easily bypassing the wooden planks set up to defend against this very behaviour. He heard the limosuine squeel, and drive off.

_I am alone...excellent._

He came up to the elevator, and pressed a small button to the left of the doors. No response. He activated his electrical discharge aug, and touched the button again. There was a slight hiss of groaning and dust. The doors coughed, and opened reluctantly. Walton stepped inside, and hit the button for the top floor. More creaking and groaning. Walton brushed off a thick layer of dust that had accumulated on his trench coat, and began to whistle a hearty tune.

The elevator stopped inbetween the fifteenth and sixteenth floor, a mere two floors to the roof. He unhooked the latch at the top of the elevator, and got out, activating his speed augmentation. He jumped onto the rim of the sixteenth floor pad, and jumped onto the wire. He shimmied his way up, and finnaly came up to the roof. He dived into the steel doors, which gave way easily. Wind billowed his neatly trimmed hair, and blew up his trench coat.

Looking down, he could still see people making their way back to their crummy little homes in this disgusting city. He turned to his right, and saw two men sitting there on the rim of the roof, sniper rifles in hand. They were looking for him.

Walton walked over to them with almost magical quietness. He shoved the closest one down, and he fell screaming to the ground, coming to a halt eighteen stories down with a sastisfying thud. The other one screamed loudly, and turned to face his attacker. He screamed even more when he saw that it was the very same "politician" he'd been taking shots at. He fumbled with his sniper rifle, and accidentally ejected the clip. He raised it up to defend himself as Walton advanced on him with wonderful slowness.

"G-g-get back!" The sniper cried out. He tossed the rifle at Walton. It hit him squarely on the chest, but did nothing to impeed his progress. Walton bent over to pick it up, and neatly tore it in half. The man burst into tears, crying for his mother. He reached the rim of the roof, and looked down with a yelp of surprise.

"No! P-p-please don't!" He sobbed.

Walton's eyes glimmered with something he had not experianced in ages. Not even the killing of the two NSF prisoners back at UNATCO could eclipse this. He took the barrel end of the broken rifle, and seized the mans neck. The man's face grew red as the air was being forced out of his lungs. He had no choice but to open his mouth for a breath.

Walton shoved the barrel end of the rifle into the mans neck, the force obliterating his jugular artery in an explosion of blood. Walton shoved it completely down his throat, and watched the man stagger about, uselessly clawing at his mostly destroyed neck. With an inhuman gurgle, he collapsed to the ground. Walton crouched over the body, and examined the mans uniform. Exaxtly as he'd expected. NSF. Another feeble attempt at making a stand.

Walton grew suddenly aware of bullets whizzing by his head, so he picked up the sniper rifle dropped from the other sniper, and went to work, looking for the unsteady muzzle flashes. They'd all seen what he had done to the second sniper.

In less than one minute, they were all dead.

* * *

"A cripple? Fifty credits for you two." 

Vixen frowned, and over at JC's slightly limping form. "That's not what you said to the last...oh, I don't know, FOUR people who came through here!"

The Red Arrow member behind the club receptionist began to caress the rocket launcher straped around his neck. The receptionist, who's name was apparently Marty, simply smiled at them, and said, "Fifty." once again.

Vixen pulled out her silenced pistol and tore it through the small space used to accept and give back credits. She released the safety, and raised her right eyebrow. The receptionist, with infuriating calm and arrogance, looked down at the gun and stroked it, purring at its feel.

"Mmm...I like the feel of that...Twenty five credits..."

Vixen frowned, and pulled the gun back out. She handed over a chit of fifty credits, and promptly had it returned as a shell. The pair walked into the club as a man with a dark suit came up to gain admission.

"Wasn't expecting that..." Vixen mumbled.

"I could use a stiff drink right about now." JC said, looking up to the bar on the second floor.

The club itself was structured curiously, resembling something normally found in a Western country, and not to mention during the early 1970's. A short winding staircase lay in the middle, surronded by a dance floor that was filled to the top with a cross section of exotic looking people. A more conventional staircase lay to the left of the room, guarded only by a fat woman who was apparently selling off Fillipino women as dance partners. A long glass mirror stood towards the back, flanked by two Red Arrow members whom were carrying Striker shotguns.

"Look's chaotic." JC observed.

"Alright, let's split up." V said, "You go upstairs, and I'll question some of the dancers down here. What's your infolink frequency?"

"157.56 terrahertz." JC said.

"Great, I'll contact you once I've found out where to go. You'll have to find me yourself, I don't have a radio."

"Fair enough." JC said.

JC left Vixen there and started up the winding staircase, frowning as he navigated its rather steep incline. He came up to the bar, and took a seat, with an aim at ordering a drink. The bartender was currently with several other people, so JC turned to a man in a black leather jacket, who was sitting next to him.

"Nice night?" JC said, being careful to mask the pain in his chest as he sat there.

"Everyday's...a niceeee night..." The man staggered.

JC rolled his eyes. _Drunkard._

The man looked at him with a slighty erratic smile, "Them scientists...they go out EVERY night...leave me alone in the dark...even when it's not a nice night...I'm a...gift...of science...I deserve deir rhesphect...right?"

JC's thoughts turned to the Red Arrow drunkard back at the teahouse, but shoved that away, now intrested, "Tell me about the scientists."

The man suddenly gripped JC's shoulders with a ghastly look of terror, "You...you aren't sopposed to knoow...They'll get you tey will...den de'll feed ya to the karkians..."

_Karkians...what the hell?_ JC stared at the man, now unable to shake his intrest. The man returned to his beer with a satisfied grunt. "What, what karkians? Where are the scientists?" JC asked in a quick voice.

"Vors...vorsa life...Dey at ta bhig buildang...Leave me alone...please..."

The man got up, and shambled away, staggering here and there.

Something happened to that man...something at the VersaLife building.

_It must be true then, they're working for MJ-12...And if they're manufacturing a cure for the disease...then what else can they be working on?_

Someone tapped JC on the shoulder. He turned and saw the bartender there, awaiting an order.

"Uh, a bloody mary, if you have one."

"Coming right up, sir. And don't talk to that guy, he's always telling everyone that VersaLife manufactures monsters. Like something out of a bad horror film, right?"

"Can you tell me where Max Chen is?", JC asked.

"You have an apointment?"

"Well, of course. I only wanted to get some beer along the way for him and myself, which reminds me, another one of those Bloody Mary's, please."

"Oh, oh, oh, right. His room is right through that path over there, you have to go down some stairs though."

"Thanks alot." JC said.

JC got back up, and looked down over the railing to find Vixen. He spotted her being harrased by two women attempting to do gratitulously sensual things to her. He called down to her, causing her to shove the two women away, and sprinted up the winding staircase.

"Yeah?" She said when she stepped onto the second floor.

"I've found a way in, follow me."

"You have the sword, right?" Vixen asked.

"Uh, yeah."

"Great."

* * *

"Organization among the foot soldiers is at an all time low, they're too numerous, and too fanatic.", Said Tai Chaing 

"The Red Arrow must keep both of these things. We are winning the war against the Luminous Path with them." said Dae Zadoeng

Tai snorted decisively. Dae as nothing but a thug, and a psychotic, always promoting rasher and rasher acts among the members, "We get more and more reports everyday. We cannot go around sporting a violent image. We must save the violence for the Path!"

Cheng butt in with gilb remarks on the subject of peace, while Eddie began a long sormon on inner peace and realization of self. Tai managed two headbuts against the conference table before the yelling began.

The people on the other side of the one way mirror looked over curiously, perplexed by the sounds coming from what they persumed to be mirrors.

Tai raised his head for a third bang when he saw two black suited individuals enter from the side room, one male, one female. Everyone in the room instantly stood up, weapons drawn. Dae made a move for the trigger on his GEP gun, but Eddie pounced, bringing him to the floor. They struggled there while the two dark people looked on in bewilderment.

"Who are you!" Tai barked.

The male stepped forward with a short bow, "We're here to see Max Chen."

Tai observed him closely, "An American...I hope he's in the mood."

It wouldn't matter if they were there to assassinate him, his bodyguards had the fastest reflexes in China, and they shot at anything that even looked remotely dangerous.

The two dark figures moved on into Max's room, and closed the doors behind them. Tai turned back to the conference room just to see Cheng assaulting Tang with his Striker shotgun. He sighed, and resumed banging his head.

* * *

"Dysfunctional high archy, eh?" Vixen whispered as they entered the Dragon Heads office. 

"Quiet."JC hissed.

The Red Arrow Dragon Heads office seemed more geared towards pleasure than actual work in its architecture. A small pond lay in the center of the room, with an idylic bridge spanning it. Dazzling fish of multiple colors swam through it. The walls sported an almost Japanese looking feel.

The rooms endearing qualities, however, ended with the Dragon Head himself, and his two leering bodyguards. Max Chen looked at them with a thin smile on his face, and beckoned them to continue on over.

JC approached first, and stood there, waiting. The Dragon Head simply looked on in bemusment. JC realized that Chen wanted _him_ to talk first.

"You must be Max Chen." JC said.

"Obviously." The Dragon Head responded in a gruff sounding voice. He looked over at Vixen levelly.

"I heard of some of the troubles you've been having recently."

"We are at war with the Luminous Path, yes, what is it?"

"I found something in Maggie Chow's apartment that you might be intrested in."

Chen laughed, "Is that so?" he said. His guards remained silent.

"The Dragons Tooth Sword." JC said. He quickly pulled out the hilt of the blade, and layed it out on the desk. Chen gawked at it, and snatched it up, activating the nano machines. They came out in a blue glow. He stared at it, obviously taken aback by this quick change of events.

"No, you must have taken it from the Luminous-"Chen began.

Vixen stepped forward, and activated her personal datacube file device. A hissing noise emanted from it.

"I know you took the sword, Yuen...you took it from the wrong place, from the wrong people." Maggie Chow's voice said.

There was sudden heavy breathing, and a groan of pain. "I am...the Dragon Head of the Red...Red Arrow Triad...and you...you are a hollow woman..."

There was soft chuckling from Maggie, and footsteps. The former Dragon Head's breath rate accelerated, "I'm much more than that, Yuen. I am the only thing standing between you and a world of hurt, darkness...and shame. Tell me where the sword is, and maybe you'll die soon."

Another groan of pain, "And you...you are a bad...actress."

There was a sudden screaming shrill cry of pain.

"And you have one less finger..."

The hissing noise stopped. Vixen looked around the room. "That was dated as June 4th."

"The day of Yuen Kongs assassination..."Max Chen breathed. "This is unbelievable."

"She works for a group of Conspirators called Majestic Twelve." JC said. "She's been using you and the Luminous Path to justify their ends."

"No...no...you must be mistaken..."But he didn't even seem to be believing his own words.

Vixen stepped forward angrily,"Think about it. She murders your predecessor, steals the sword, and ignites a war between the two most powerful Triads. What happens next? MJ-12 seizes power."

JC looked at her. Was she really on his side?

"I can't believe this..."Max Chen said.

"I'm sorry." JC said quietly.

"That woman was my lover...We had a child together, Lin Mei."

JC said nothing. There was a sort of glossed over gaze in Vixens eyes.

"I...I will meet with Gordon Quick. You have my word on that. Tell him that I have ordered a indefinate cease fire."

"I will." JC said.

_Maybe now we can get some things done._ JC thought.

Gunfire erupted from outside, and it all fell apart.

* * *

Agent Jackson led the other nine Commandos around the corner, and were almost immediatly faced with three conversing military policemen. The nearest one gawked at the sight of ten people wearing jet black high impact protected armor, and fumbled around for his gun. The other two simply began to scream. Jackson raised his two shrapnel guns, and mowed all three of them down in a steady stream of fire. 

His suits audio sensors picked up screaming from inside the club, and he ordered an advance. The receptionist instantly closed the shutters of her little pick up window while Jacksons team blockbusted into establishment. Chaos erupted everywhere instanteously. Galloway tossed a concussion grenade up into the bar area, and a large explosion sent down heavy piles of debris everywhere.

"Spread out!" Jackson barked over the radio to his team.

Jackson aimed his rail guns into a gaggle of escaping club goers and let loose some shraphel. The group was torn to shreads under the assault while Jackson laughed with insane glee. Blood began to cascade down the dance floor as more and more bodies collapsed to the ground.

The Red Arrow members retaliated quickly, firing upon the team from all sides with assorted types of weaponry. Jackson looked up, and quikcly picked off two offenders from upstairs, their guns and bodies falling to the dance floor below.

He advanced up the staircase, pausing only to kill two patrons and three Red Arrow triads, and quickly got on the suit radio.

"Fallen Angels respond."

"Fallen Angel One, status ok."

"Fallen Angel Two, heavy dam-" The link went down.

Silence from Three.

"Fallen Angel Four, status ok."

This continued until all team members had been accounted for. Jackson smiled. Four minutes into the assault, and he'd only lost three commandos.

"Roger that, search for D-02, over and out."

* * *

"What the hell is going on!" Max Chen yelled over the continued cacophony of gunfire. 

"MJ-12 troops. They must have followed me."JC said in a horrified whisper.

A nearby bodyguard listened to his radio for a second.

"Marty say's that they looked like Mechs."

Vixen cursed. "Commandos!" She turned to JC, "Go get em', do what you do best!"

"My augmentations aren't responding, didn't I tell you that!" JC yelled.

A Commando burst into the room, guns blazing. Chen ducked down underneath his desk, pulling out a revolver while one of the bodyguards was killed. JC and Vixen both rolled into cover behind several artificial looking boulders. The remaining bodyguard fired off a few shots into the Commando, but was cut down easily.

"Fallen Angel One here, subject found, I repeat, subject-"

JC rolled out and shot the Commando in the head with his magnum. The armor piercing round blew a hollow point in the Commandos insect like mask, and a loud flatline broke out to announce the users death.

"See?" Vixen yelled."You're far more competent than these clowns, go at them!"

JC grumbled and ran through the doors to Chens office.

Vixen turned back to Chen, "Don't worry, I'll stay here."

"I'm more than capable of handling myself, _lady._"

Vixen said nothing, and backed over to Chens desk. They crouched there, waiting for another Commando.

"Is the sword alright?" Vixen asked suddenly.

"It's right there on the desk." Chen said, paying little attention.

"Good." Vixen said, and hit the Dragon Head over the head with the butt of her pistol.

* * *

JC ran out through the now destroyed mirrors and came across a huge battle between the Red Arrow and Majestic Twelve Commandos. It didn't seem to be going well in the Triads favor. Most of the Commandos had moved off to the upper levels, but two of them stayed downstairs to supress the remaining oposition. A dozen civilian bodies lay sprawled out on the floor, which was now slick with blood. 

JC took cover behind the winding staircase in the middle of the room, and waited a moment before rolling out of cover. The nearest Commando spotted him, and wheeled around, to fire. JC fired, hitting the Commandos stomach. There was a hiss of oxygon flowing out, and several green purple juices spilled out. The Commando ignored it, and fired. JC dived to the staircase at the left side of the room, and cleared it before the shrapbel hit him. He bumped his head into something hard, and looked up, gun outstretched. He fired his pistol into the head of the commando standing there. Another flatline. JC turned around in time to meet with the other commando, and shot him in the head.

_There's two down._

He looked down over at the remaining commando downstairs, and saw that he was already dead, no doubt fallen victim to the Triads sustained attack. He sprinted up the stairs, and hid behind a table with another Triad as shrapnel tore up the ground behind him. The Triad looked over nervously at him, and JC identified him as the man who had greeted him inside the conference room. He peaked his head out, and back in again. Two more commandos, laying seige behind the bar counter. A concusion grenade landed neatly inbetween the Triads legs, and he began to panick, fidgeting around wildly. JC shoved him, and picked up the grenade, tossing it back over to where it had came. An explosion followed almost immediatly afterward, followed by a single flatline. The Triad rose up, and fired wildly at the bar area. JC heard a flatline emant from that area. The Triad whopped with joy.

JC got up and looked around. Silence had settled in around the bar, until he heard a footfall above him.

Another Commando was on the third floor, looking down at JC. This one had a navy blue Commando suit. The Commando leapt from his vantage point, and fell right into JC's body, pinning him to the floor. His attacker leaned on his chest, putting all of his weight into what he was doing, and whispered to him, "Strange...you're not as good as I expected you to be."

JC put the barrel of his magnum into the Commandos waist, and fired. Blood poured out from the wound and splashed over JC's trench coat.

"Damn." The Commando muttered before JC pressed the trigger while aiming at his head.

* * *

Inside the black van, Micheal listened as Jacksons heart moniter flatlined. 

Feeling nothing, he turned to the com link with the VersaLife MJ-12 facility, and said, "Assualt failed, repeat, assualt is not a success."

A rocket from a GEP gun connected with the van roughly three seconds later.

* * *

When the assault was finnaly deemed over, JC rushed back into Max Chens office in time to see him rise from his desk, groaning. 

"What happened!" JC exclaimed as he ran over.

Chen looked around the desk, and let out a gasp.

"She knocked me out...she took the Sword!"

JC groaned, and slapped himself on the head.

_**You never should have trusted her...**_

Chen cursed, and turned back to him. "We'll deal with the Sword later, you need to get this to Gordon Quick, tell him I'm convinced. I'll be happy to sign a definate cease fire...with one condition that I will explain to him over the phone later. Go!"

JC turned, and ran out, cursing Vixen the entire time.

* * *

Vixen smiled as the MJ-12 black van burst into flames, and tossed away the GEP gun. She ran over to the burning husk, and waved her hands wildly as a car came by. Said car skidded to a halt, and a man in his late forties came out while dialing 911. 

"Calm down, lady, it's all going to be-"

She tossed the gun at his head, and he fell to the floor, unconscious. She filched his car keys, and stepped into his car, putting on some light music. Vixen continued to grin, looking down at the Dragons Tooth Sword, safely attached to her belt.

The car sped off into the night, headed for the VersaLife building.

Authors Note: Next chapter coming soon.


	19. VersaLife

_**Deus Ex: The Conspiracy**_

Authors Note: I do not own Deus Ex, or any of its characters, excluding my own creations.

Chapter Nineteen: VersaLife

JC Denton looked through the shudders of one of the windows leading to the secret Luminous Path outpost he had visited earlier, and saw no activity inside. Just a shop devoid of any life.

_Well, of course. They probably have a secret enterance _somewhere_, right?_ He continued walking along until he came up to a back alley, a sufficent route to the backside of the shops. Burning barrels cast hazy red glows across the narrow walls of the alley, piercing the falling night. Various night crawlers stared omniously at him as he passed, but he ignored them.

_You let your guard down with her, you idiot. You should never have trusted someone who works with MJ-12. _

Why had he allowed himself to save her? Things would have been so much easier if he had simply killed her when he had the chance. What on earth had caused him to disobey the basic rules that made him a killing machine?

_It doesn't matter now. Next time, she gets a bullet in the head. _

He continued weaving his way through the labrinyth of alleys, looking for a sign that would mark the Luminous Path run shop.

"Hey...you bad, huh? Coming into our turf...outta here, bitch."

He couldn't see the person who had delivered the threat. Somewhere in the shadows. Was the owner of the voice even talking to him?"

"Nice leather coat...expensive..."

Ok. He was.

_You come all this way to be mugged? I don't think so._

JC scanned the darkness for movement. He was currently in a more endustrial looking area of the alleys, dark smog billowing from some pre-millenial machinery. No burning barrels around. JC reached into his pocket, took out his UNATCO issue flashlight, and turned it on. Two ratty looking men in grey street clothes stood there in the darkness, momentarilly stunned by the sudden outburst of light. They recoiled. JC dashed over to the first one, ignoring the plasma wound in his chest that still plagued him, and delivered a swift uppercut to his chin. The man as sent hurtling backward two feet, and collapsed into a wooden fence.

"Holy sh-"

JC elbowed the second man in the gut, and stood back, beckoning him onward.

"Guy's a maniac! Help!" The thug cried out.

There was the sound of scrambling feet and loud mouthed cursing. Several thugs started to come over the fence.

_Goddamnit, this is JUST what I need right now._ JC thought sardonically. He took out his crowbar, and waved it around menacingly at the advancing street urchins. There was the sudden glimmer of a firearm in one of their hands. A pre-millenial 9mm. JC tossed the crowbar at the mans hands, and hit the gun instead, causing it to clatter away safely. Melee weapons began to come out, assorted to crowbars, knifes, and even an electric prod. JC looked behind him, and realized that they were backing him into a corner, no ways out besides going through his opposition.

Just as JC began to contemplate taking out his assault gun, a voice from above yelled, "Get down!" JC obeyed. He got down, and a shotgun blast discharged into a thug in the middle of the advancing gaggle. The rest of them looked around in confusion as one on the right side went down with another blast. Another one dropped in the middle. Two more followed before they began to run in the opposite direction. Another shotgun blast ripped out into the night, followed by another one, and two more fleeing thugs were killed. The remaining five escapped. JC went out into the open with his hands up, and saw Gordon Quick standing on top of a shop with a long barreled shotgun.

"Many troubles with these men in this neighbour hood, follow me, Mr. Denton."

* * *

JC took a seat back down in the ultramodern chait he'd sat in earlier, and felt his chest as the Dragon Head arrived inside with his shotgun.

"Tea?" Gordon Quick offered.

"Thank you." JC said.

"We got word of the attack on the Lucky Money club just five minutes ago."The Dragon Head in another room. There was the sound of mixing water, and sugar being added to a drink.

"A group called Majestic Twelve attacked. The Red Arrow Dragon Head would like to call a truce."

"He what!"

"I found the evidence you were looking for in Maggie Chows apartment. The Dragons Tooth was there. I brought it to Max Chen and he agreed to see a truce."

"And the sword-"

"In the hands of MJ-12."

"...Unfortunate, but not a big deal." He camed back out with a tray of china cups. "Mr. Denton, you were the man I was hoping for. You may see Tracer Tong now."

_About damn time._ "Thank you." JC said.

Gordon set down the tray on the table, and went over to a keypad near the corner of the room. JC hadn't noticed it before.

"Inside is a mini version of the Canal, but run by us. We use it for smuggling, and transport between this base and the headquarters. Our sampam driver will gladly take you there. Go!" The door slid open. JC left the tea cup where it was, and went through the door, hearing it close behind him. He went down a small flight of stairs, and came upon what the Dragon Head had promised. A long, narrow canal underground, with a single sampam hanging there on the water. The driver waved over to him, and beckoned him to come onto the boat. He did so, and the sampam sped off into the darkness of the tunnel.

* * *

Alec Seneski was afriad. Not to say that he was a man who became afriad regularly, heavens no. He was of Russian descent, and people of such racial past were sure to be tough(especially after the collapse of Russian economy!)As he scanned the message relayed to him from Micheal again, however, he knew he had plenty of good reason to be afraid. The Dragons Tooth Sword hadn't been recovered, and worse yet, JC Denton had NOT been killed.

The small confines of his communications booth near the VersaLife building made his situation, physcologicaly, much worse. Claustophobic slowly entered his mind as his mind rushed to work out on what to do. He had to report bad news to Bob Page. The last time someone had reported bad news, they were set to be executed. Only the last one didn't get executed, and instead, that someone executed the executioners herself.

_I've still got my assault gun..._

No...no, that would never work on an MIB. They were usually the ones who were sent out to do Pages especially dirty work, and he didn't want such a death to be that much more painful if he failed to kill his assaliant. He moved his hands over to the SATCON "Open" Channel, and promptly saw a pair of headlights approaching in the distance. Time for his "cover job."

He went over to the window, and put his hands out to recieve authorization papers or apointment checks. Or an MJ-12 card.

Instead, the car did not seem to notice, and made no move to slow down. Alec did not panick. He simply took the assault gun in his left hand, and waved the right out more aggresively, to indicate to the driver that the driver in question simply must stop. No response. The car was now over twenty feet away. This had never happened to him before.

He panicked.

He kicked the booth door open, and raised the assault rifle to his eyes to increase precision. Before he could pull the trigger, the car jerked, and swerved to the right, coming to a halt. The assault gun pierced the night, a single round. It went embarrasingly high.

Alec immediatly went into an alert crouch, "Come out with your hands above your, er, head!" He wasn't used to impersonating security.

The door opened, and someone in a black jumpsuit rolled out, and into the darkness of the huge ornamental bushery that the high level executives had wanted to put out in front of the building. Alec cursed, and attached a silencer to the barrel of his rifle. He advanced a few steps, and let fly a dozen rounds into the assorted oddly designed bushes. A genderless grunt seemed to reverbrate from that area.

Alec advanced a few more feet, waiting for more noises. There were none. He listened for breathing, but among the heavy industrial noises around this part of the city, he could hear nothing but the sound of speeding cars in the distance, and his own heartbeat. He tip-toed a few more feet, and came into touching distance with the bushes. He perked his ears again. Several different sounds coming from there, some of it sounding like breathing, others not. He wasn't satisfied enough to actually go in there. He backed away, and went over to the intruders car, and looked around. A small stealth pistol lay on the ground near the open door. Something his little friend must have dropped.

He turned around again, quickly, and saw nothing. He picked up the pistol, and shot off a few rounds into the bushes. Still nothing. He got a little closer to the bushes, and listened for any liquidy sounding noises. If he had killed the intruder, surely they must have spilt blood already. He heard...nothing. This unnerved him. The doubts he had of his kill grew larger.

Alec took a deep breath, and plunged into the bushes. He pushed through the annoying branchs and shrubbery, and came to the middle of the bush, a hollow spot. There was nothing. He turned around, and looked all around him. For some reasons, all the lights seemed to have fallen out around him. They weren't like that before. A feeling of dread came over him. He suddenly had the overwhelming urge to soil himself and run away, not caring where he went. He struggled with this urge, and his self control. Self control won, thankfully. He would simply reach into his pockets, take out his key light, make his way back to his station, and continue to investigate. As he reached in, a blue light suddenly engulfed the entire bush. A female in a black jumpsuit stood in front of him, holding a shimmering blue blade that looked as if it was alive.

It _was_ alive.

His head went off first, to avoid the scream.

* * *

_**Bionic-Augmentation: A Humanist point of View. **_

_By Silas Archer_

_While the advancements in human biology research are admirable, no one can hope to excuse the loop holes the scientists that hold high positions in this field use to operate outside of moral boundaries. Such behaviour like this leads to creations like The Omar, and other, let's be frank, "cyborg" augmentation failures. Those are only the ones that did not succeed, however. The ones that _did_ are, I must argue, that much worse. The people we call "Mechs" are the very contradictions of the structuring of the human psyche. My government was one of the first to head off into the Human Modification field. The end result is a relentless combat soldier, one who does not fear death, and can be deployed into battle without support. The simple fact that my government, and many others, choose to ignore is that the process not only horribly disfigures the subjects physical appereance: But his soul as well. And now the technology is being used for commercial enterprises. The purpose of this book is not to cloud your mind with a biased point of view, but a simple Fact. Nano-Augmentation is still in the testing grounds, and only God knows what is being mixed into this oncoming concoction..._

"Mr. Tong, you have a visitor." said Enrik.

Tracer Tong looked up from his book, and removed his glasses. "Very good. Send him in."

Enrik disapeared back into the laboratory common area as Tong got up from the desk over looking the operating theater.

He pressed a few buttons that would start the preping procedure for the removal of JC Dentons killswitch, and turned back to the see the man himself walk up the stark white ramp, and face to face with him.

So. This was the man everyone in Hong Kong was talking about.

Denton started first, "Mr. Tong."

"JC Denton. You have no idea how happy I am to see you." Tong said with a congenial smile.

"You know my brother?" JC asked.

"A good friend, and reliable man. I heard that your killswitch has been activated."

"I've started to feel the effects already, and my augmentations have been shut down."

"Hmph, we have something for your missing modifiers, but I, for one, am not sure if we can repell the killswitch."

JC frowned, and looked into the operating theatre,"Is there a chance that something like this can not only do nothing to stop the kilswitch...but kill me?"

"We have no idea, it's never been tested on a man like yourself." He laughed, "See how easily our technology turns on us? The more power you have, the more chances you have for it to slip through your fingers."

"Let's just get this over with." JC sighed.

Tong continued unabated, "That will depend. You, like your brother, are an extraordinary piece of technology." He went in for the kill, a metaphor, "I never pass up the chance to try a new blade, but I fear that at the crucial moment that I raise my hand to strike, you will twist from my grasp."

Tracer Tong waited for the look of confusion that came upon everyone elses face when he used his superior language skills to his advantage. Instead, he recieved one of irritation. "In other words, I'll owe you a favor."

Tong nodded.

JC reached for his gun, and pulled it out, fingering the hammer. "I'm not anyones thug."

"I'm afriad that you don't have any choice in the matter, Mr. Denton." Tong replied. "And yes, you're right. And your friend, Alex will owe me a favor, too. I offered him a safe haven."

"Alex?" JC asked.

"He and your many, many friends are to arrive soon."

JC thought this over for a moment, and put the gun away. Tong smiled again, knowing that he had won. "Trust me, JC. I oppose Majestic Twelve as much as you do. Now, let's see if we can do something about that killswitch. Go down the stairs, and move to the center of the operating theatre. I will take care of the rest once you do that. There's a paper gown that you'll have to wear on the way down as well, heavy clothes obstruct the examining mechanism."

JC turned, and left. Tong watched the large room in front of him for a minute, before JC walked out into the center, having done exactly what Tong had asked him. He turned to the large control panel in front of him, and flipped a few switchs. A holographic readout of JC's body instantly appeared in front of Tong. The nanites were systematically tearing up through JC's body.

_The irony..._

Tong moved the camera up and down, looking for suspicious objects. Surely enough, there was a large artificial object hanging there near Dentons heart that roughly resembled a microchip. Targetting the object, Tong activated the EMP device. JC instantly crouched to the floor, screaming out in pain. In less than five seconds, the object ruptured. The nanites instantly stopped what they were doing, and resumed circulating peacefully through his blood stream.

Tong fingered the intercom, "Success. Return to the control room."

JC staggered back up, and stood there for a moment before heading back up the control room.

* * *

"That's it?" JC asked when he got back into the studio. So far Tong had prooved to be nothing more than another face JC couldn't decide he trusted, so he wanted to make sure there were no more catches.

"A simple 'switch', as they call it."Tong said with another wry smile. "Are your augmentations still intact?"

JC called upon speed, and rolled to the side with gracefully agility, "Yup." JC said triumphantly.

"Excellent. Just in case, though, I have four new augmentations that I want you to install."

"Sure thing, where are they?"

Tong went over to the backside of the lab, and punched in a code into a safe keypad. He produced four small nanite canisters, and handed them to JC. JC rolled up his sleve, and inserted each one, feeling a small prick with each insertion.

"What'd they do?"

"They are augmentations for cloaking, agressive defense, visual enchancement, and silence. The 'Run Silent' and 'Agressive Defense" augs are both passive, meaning that they operate differently from your other augmentations. They're always active, requiring little to no energy consumption. The other two are much like your existing modifications."

"I see." JC said. "Right, let's get down to business."

"Indeed." Tracer said.

"Have you heard from my brother?"

"He's on the way, according to John Wachoziario."

"Er, who?" JC asked.

"Oh, right, you know him as 'Smuggler.' Let's move on to more pressing matters, now. We still face the possibility of a Triad War here in Hong Kong."

"Chen declared a truce just a few minutes ago." JC explained.

"A good bit of private investigating and diplomacy, I must admit, but it will never hold. Not with the Sword left to be fought over."

"Vixen stole it in the Lucky Money." JC said, frowning at the memory.

Tracer Tong frowned for the first time, as well, "Yes, I heard. You should have dispatched her when you had the chance."

JC said nothing. What _could_ he say?

"Anyway," Tong continued, "As I said, the truce won't hold. Our only option is to find a way to distribute the technology to both Triads equally."

"I sense a little corporate espionage in the works here." JC predicted.

"You are indeed an intelligent man. And yes, this will be your first favor from myself. Remember that I saved your life. Now pay attention, my men have hacked the VersaLife access networks, and have set you up with a cover identity, new clothes, and a car. You will then enter the VersaLife building in the Wan Chai district, where we know that there is a Majestic Twelve laboratory where most of their Asian Continent research takes place. The ROM encoding for the Dragons Tooth Sword should be stored in one of their databanks."

JC thought this over for a moment, "...This is gonna take some doing."

"Try not to arouse suspicion. You'll have to talk to one Mr. Hundley, as well, if you want access to the Labs."

"Hundley..."

"You'll find him receptive. He was the one who sold the Sword technology to the Red Arrow in the first place."

_This is a big operation here..._"What the hell." JC said, "I'lldo it, but I'm not your henchman."

Tong smiled again, "As long as you oppose Majestic Twelve, you will be in need of an ally. We will have a mutual intrest for quite some time, now."

* * *

JC drove the car provided to him from the Luminous Path out of the old warehouse that served as the Lum's hideout: Surprisingly out in the open, just across the street from the Buddhist Temple in the Golden Plaza. He tugged fitfully at his upper crust tuxedo, and removed the tie for the time being. It was a great way to infiltrate a multi-national corporate headquarters, but a poor choice of combat gear. He was only able to carry a few lockpicks, multi-tools, and his magnum. The rest of his equipment was being kept inside a safe in Tracers lab.

He turned left onto the next road, and continued driving on until the VersaLife building came into view a mile or so away.

If JC had learned anything, it was to expect the absolute worst out of any situation, that's why he was preparing to meet Vixen inside the VersaLife facility, and take her out once and for all. Yet, as much as he hated to admit, they were more equally matched then he had originally thought. Her stealth and cunning played head to head with his brute force and speed.

JC realized that he would also have to get back the original DTS, as well. Killing two birds with one stone.

_Not as easy as you make it sound..._

He turned onto a more isolated road that would bring him all the way up to the VersaLife building. The market bristled around him.

He wondered vaguely where Jock was. He hadn't heard back from him in all this time...

The car continued on its automatic path, and soon came up to the security booth under the shadow of the humongous building. Two MJ-12 troopers and one MIB were standing about, investigating what looked to be a car wreck. JC rolled down his windows, put the car on its quiet engine, and listened.

"Head was cleanly removed from the body, cauterized, it looks like...wait, here's another car." The MIB was saying.

JC pulled up, and hoped his new attire, and recently removed sunglasses would hide his indentity. Just to be safe, he turned out all the lights in the car, hoping the night would keep his face from showing.

"This area is currently undergoing an investigation, sir." The nearest MJ-12 troop said.

"Are you guys...security?" JC lied.

"Special divsion." The other one answered quickly.

The MIB approached, and leaned inside the vehicle. JC activated his new visual enhancement, and saw that the MIB was smiling. In the distance, behind some bushes, he detected a large, seemingly inanimate lump. What could THAT be?

"I'd like to see your ID card, failure to do so will result in your prompt arrest." The MIB said.

JC handed him the card, "I'm contracting this month."

The MIB examined it for awhile, before deeming it legitimate, "It checks out. Carry on."

JC suddenly realized that what he had been staring at was a human body, but what gender he could not fully tell. The car moved on, and he parked in the "visitors" parking lot. Several MJ-12 guards were conversing outside, obviously not afraid of arousing curiosity. JC moved past them, and entered the facility.

* * *

The greasel waddled several meters away, occasionally taking picks at a long dead and eaten rat. Vixen cursed, and took out her silenced pistol, moving the laser sight toward the creatures cobra like head. She suddenly sneezed, which threw her aim off completely, and caused the greasel to leer in her direction. She cursed the rafters she was transversing through, and rolled to the side to avoid a large wad of green spit. The greasel hopped towards her, chattering in excitement at the potential kill. V dropped her weapon, and grabbed the hilt of the Dragons Tooth sword. The greasel was now only five feet away. She lunged foward, and activated the blade, thoroughly surprising the transgenic. The sword jackknifed into the greasels torso, and it's upper hemisphere fell into the blade, which was promptly dissintergrated by the killer nano-machines inside the sword. V sighed, and withdrew the weapon, picking her silenced pistol back up.

_Christ, not the best security they've got around here. _

Infiltrating the labs had been surprisingly easy. The employees and security guards had all mistaken her for "one of the psionic guys.", so that was no big deal. One man had been able to see through her temporary identity, one John Smith, and had made her do his dirty work to get into the labs, assassinating the shift supervisor. This part had been wonderfully simple, but rather disturbing on her part. She'd shot the man in the head when he'd gotten into a more isolated area, and hauled the body into the rafters, where she discovered the presence of loose transgenics. A wonderful idea had crossed her mind upon seeing the two greasels waddling around. Let _them_ destroy the evidence. She dropped the body, and backed out of the rafters again. The tearing of flesh soon followed. With that done, she got a security pass to the next level, and maintenance keycard for the rafters she'd use to get into the private section of the lab's where Bob Page and Maggie Chow were schedualed to meet. So far, she'd had to dispatch only monsters, so she supposed it was actually doing the security teams a favor in the long run.

She continued crawling through the rafters, and soon came up to a dead end, with only a mesh grating in her way. She chopped it up with the Dragons Tooth, and rolled out. She was in a winding, ultramodern looking hallway. She holstered her weapons, dusted herself off, and went off toward the main labs, as indicated by a nearby sign.

_Hopefully this'll work..._

* * *

"Welcome to VersaLife. We make Tommorow look like Yesterday. How can I help you?"

JC leaned forward, and took a look around the elegant infrastructure of the lobby, and connecting offices. Mild mannered workers went by to and fro, occasionally flanked by security guards.

"I'm looking for a 'Mr. Hundley.'" JC said.

"Ah...well, actually he hasn't reported back yet. I'm sure it's no big deal. Why don't you go off to find him yourself?" She obviously had a lot of work to do.

"Sure thing, thanks." JC said.

The receptionist didn't respond, and instead went back to typing furiously on her computer. JC went up the stairs, and decided to start from the third level down. The building itself was enormous, and he decided that eventually he'd have to get onto the elevator, but started on the first three levels anyway. When he went through a small rec room, a lone worker looking up from his newspaper and addressed him in a thick Irish accent, "So much for the schedule, right mate?"

Taken aback, JC nearly jumped, his hand moving for the pistol concealed in his suit, and relaxed upon seeing who it really was. The worker snickered at the reaction, "The schedule, yeah...sure." He took a seat near the man, and went to work with a coffee maker.

"You look beat, haha...which reminds me, I oughta have some myself." He, too, activated the machine. They sipped coffee together in silence. "Yeah...it's swell to miss a day of work, but they bloody hell better push back the delivery! I know I won't be done."

"They'll understand." JC said blankly.

"At leas the superfreighters on it's way to America. No more special agents mucking about up here."

"Speical agents?" JC asked.

"You know, the ones in the suits with the eyes tattoed on the backs of their necks...weird, huh?"

"Oh yeah, them." JC said. "Yes, very weird."

The data entry worker smiled and leaned forward, "Did ya see the lass in the tight suit? Damn..."

"Er, who?"

"You know, brown hair, looks like one of the psionics personal."

_Shit..._

"No. I didn't." JC said. "I'd better get going, nice talking with you."

"Same, mate."

JC left the rec room, his head already aching at the mention of the former MJ-12 Agent's presence.

_Just another loose end, is all. No need to worry..._

_**That's what you said last time...**_

JC continued on, and came into a large office room filled with cubicles. A large TV screen kept on uttering the words "Loyalty. Obey..." and so on and so forth. A single man worked near the elevator corridor. JC passed his cubicle, and made no move to talk, but spurred a reaction anyway. The man seemed to be packing.

"Huh, wha-?"

"Take it easy, I'm just looking around." JC said.

"I'm, uh, trying to concentrate." The man said, and quickly moved his mouse over to a minimized program, which happened to be a computer game. The man babbled an apology, and moved on to say more stuff that JC couldn't quite understand. "They keep you up here pretty late." JC said.

"Heh, not any more." The man said.

"Oh? And why's that?"

"I guess it doesn't matter anymore. Because my shift supervisor is dead. I hate this job, they had me falsify all the records..."

"You're talking about Hundley?"JC asked.

"Yeah, some girl in a tight suit did it for me-"His eyes widdened, "You won't tell anyone will you? I had to do it! Everyone who gets this job is infected with Grey Death and-"

"Calm down...I'll keep your dirty secret if you do two things for me. Give me a pass to those labs, and tell me more about your job, and I'll keep my mouth shut."

"Damnit...your the second person who's done that to me..."He went on the computer, and asked put in several lines of code. "Done. Your name is Ryan Mark Asher, contracter."

"Perfect. Now, why does everyone in your job get Grey Death?"

"Whatevers in those labs all gets inventoried here...none of it goes on the record. Iverson, Chang, Kiley, Watts...now it's me."

"Grey Death? Are you saying that VersaLife manufactured the disease?" JC asked.

"I don't know!" The worker exclaimed, "I did your favor, now let me get the hell out of here!" He picked up several papers and personal items and rushed off. JC turned, deep in thought, and entered the elevator, pressing the "Level One Laboratorys" Button.

_Of course it's true, but I thought Paul was simply using it to justify my joining the NSF...and it's all so simple. If they have so much control, who's to say that they didn't distribute this disease. Now the Ambrosia situation all makes sense..._

The elevator ticked off the remaining floors, and suddenly slid open. JC walked out, and finnaly saw MJ-12 in all of its naked glory.

It was a large red mirror like room that simply screamed indescrible power at every inch. Marble pillars flanked the room, an observation deck lay at the upper end of the cavernous hall, an MIB standing sentry. All of this, however, failed to immediatly register in JC's sense. His eyes were drawn to the large marble sculpture in the middle of the room. A sculpture that depicted a large square like hand. In it's maw, hanging on a string, was a model of the Earth. JC stepped forward, and almost immediatly a man from the other side of the room rushed over to greet him. When he came within touching distance, he panted, and said, "You the guy they just cleared for Level One?"

"Yeah, that's me."JC said.

"You have full access to stroll around the laboratories, but please respect the work we do here. Your security pass will be invalidated if you do anything to disrupt what we do around here."

"I've looked forward to this for a long time..."JC said, gazing around the chamber again.

The man offered him a smug look, "Yes, I'm sure you have."

He ran back over to the group of MJ-12 soldiers he'd been speaking to earlier, and pointed in JC's direction. The guards all looked over, and smiled, before returning to their patrols.

JC avoided their gazes, and walked through the room, his footsteps echoing off the walls of the chamber as he did so. Before the large sculpture, was a staircase leading downwards. JC went down the stairs, and came out into an expansive laboratory, filled with scientists examining odds and ends with MIB's overseeing their work. Going in, JC passed a cell, whos occupant was a bedraggled looking man who immediatly cried out, "I'm the captain here!"

A nearby scientist blushed, and said, "He's very excitable, ignore him for now."

"Can you tell me where the Sword encoding computer is? I have to put in a special code, captains orders."

The scientist immediatly looked over to the prisoner with a bewildered expression on his face. The prisoner squeeled with joy.

"B-but-"

JC rolled his eyes, "I meant Walton Simons, you dolt."

"S-Simons, of course! Yes, it's just down the hall at the end of the chamber. You'll need access from the Agent who's guarding it, and be sure to stay quiet, Bob Page is here on important business." The man stammered.

"Thanks." JC said, and quickly walked off in the direction the man had specified. He passed a large variety of experiments and cells, and even a strange looking carcass that looked exactly like an alien from a science fiction movie. He finnaly got through the hall, and came up to a set of transparant double doors. Several men were gathered inside, shrowded in darkness as the man behind Page Industries droned on about a new form of weapon to be put on Bravo Three Military grade robots. JC was disturbed upon realizing that the flamethrower depicted on the screen looked exactly like the one Gunther had been carrying.

_And Bob Page...is he involved with MJ-12 as well?_

"...And now if you'll excuse me, I have some important business to attend to with my good friend, Miss Chow."

JC clenched his teeth as Maggie Chow went up to the podium with Page, and shook hands with him.

"Sir?" The MJ-12 guard said to JC."Are you lost?"

_I can't go in there...she'll recognize me, there's got to be another way._

A bomb exploded inside the room.

* * *

Page hit the deck as soon as the LAM bounced off the lap of Jimmy Chang, the man behind Zuro-Tech, from the rafters.

_Who knew I was here!_

Screams of panick were heard as everyone in the room rushed to get away from the active explosive. Maggie Chow took out her Cobra sword, and waved it around with a humongous air of silliness about her. Page grabbed her legs, and pulled her down as the bomb exploded. Most of the corporate executives he'd been meeting with were ripped apart, along with the only two MJ-12 troopers in the room. Several things happened at once. Pages MIB bodyguard took out his assault gun and waved it around furiously, Maggie Chow began cursing in Chinese, the sprinklers, detecting a fire, sprang to life, Vixen dropped out through the rafters, and the guard stationed outside was hurled through the glass double doors, followed closely by JC Denton in a tuxedo.

There was a dangerous pause.

JC removed a magnum from his suit, and shot the MIB in the head. Page pushed his bodyguards falling body, and sheilded himself from the subsequent explosion. Not expecting this, JC leaped back to avoid being ripped apart. Page grabbed his breifcase, and threw it at Vixen as MJ-12 soldiers arrived from every door in the room. Alarms sounded through Level One.

Page grabbed Maggies hand, and hauled her out of the room, and towards the elevators.

* * *

Vixen allowed the breifcase to hit her as she gawked. Her carefully thought out revenge to take Page hostage had failed. By extension, her using the DTS as a bragaining chip, had also failed. And now, Page had thrown a briefcase at her, and she was smacked into JC Denton as MJ-12 soldiers poured into flooding room.

"ALL PERSONAL ALERT, INTRUDERS DETECTED IN LEVEL ONE."

JC shoved her off, and punched the nearest soldier in the face, grabbing his assault gun.

Vixen activated the Dragons Tooth Sword, and cut the oncoming soldiers in front of her down like a tractor in a wheat field. JC crouched and let fly a merciless assault on the MJ-12 troopers coming towards him. Both of them easily massacered the incoming soldiers. JC turned around swiftly, and ran at Vixen. She sliced at him to the right, but he simply leaned to the left to avoid. He kicked the sword out of her hand, and grabbed it in its free fall. Vixen punched him in the face, causing the nano sword to fall into the water. She turned, and used his back as a stepping stone, forcing him down, and allowing her to leap back into the rafters. The entire encounter had taken less than one minute.

* * *

"JC, grab the sword, get the ROM encoding and get out of there!" Tracer Tong yelled over JC's infolink.

JC got up, and looked around for Vixen. She was gone. Damn. He scooped the DTS out of the water, and ran out into the ROM encoding chamber. He activated the blade, and used it to kill two soldiers that tried to surrond him upon getting inside.

"Login is 'ADonovon'. Password is 'Species P'." Said Daedalus. JC quickly inputted both figures, and came up to a special options screen. He clicked the ROM database file, and forwarded it to TTUnderNet, Tracers website. Objective complete.

"Two soldiers approach from behind." Said Daedalus.

JC turned and riddled several oncoming soldiers with assault rounds.

"Security lockdowns are occuring all throughout the facility. You have only several minutes to escape. Your only option of exfilitration is a highly dangerous method. Going out through the way you came. Majestic Twelve personal are flooding the area. "

JC activated his speed augmentation, and dashed through the decimated meeting room, and came into the laboratory. Soldiers were appearing everywhere, in tight squad formations. He activated the DTS, and leaped over a two man assault team that had been running at him. He landed on the upper laboratory floor, and was met with and MIB. Gunfire erupted from all directions. He shoved the MIB down, and sliced his head off, continuing down the corridor he'd originally came through. The MIB didn't explode.

_The detonation trigger must be inside the head..._

JC weaved his way through panicky scientists and confused MJ-12 personal, and came out into the main hall again. He activated ADS as he saw a large grouping of Commandos guarding the elevator. Several rockets instantly exploding near JC, who felt a sudden rush of heat and energy as they went. He let out an involuntary yell as he fired upon them with his assault gun. Two fell to the assault before his clip finnaly went dry. He dashed over to the remaining troops, coaxing loud grunts of disbelif and surprise as he stabbed through them with the sword. Their bodies fell all around him as he went through the elevator as more MJ-12 personal entered the chamber.

He slumped to the floor of the elevator, feeling the adrenalline rush leave his body, and left him panting for a breath on the floor.

"Very impressive." Said Daedalus.

* * *

Authors Note: Whew, that was a long one! Hope you enjoyed, and look out for the next one, coming soon... 


	20. VersaLife, SubLevel Two

_**Deus Ex: The Conspiracy**_

Chapter Twenty: VersaLife, SubLevel Two.

Authors Note: Twenty chapters so far! I'd like to thank all the people who reviewed this story, offering ideas, constructive criticism and praise alike. Thank you.

Tracer Tong watched the television apprehensivly, waiting a news report. The words "bombing", "terrorist attack", or "massacre" were all expected. Right now, a young japanese reporter was busy talking about a new advancement in security robotics, a corporation called "Zula-Mech" with an eye towards competing with Page Industries.

_Speaking of Page, I do wonder if he survived that damn womans bomb. _

Cursed little wench. She seemed to have it set in her mind to screw with everything that happened here. He went over to the com link center at the right hand part of the lab, and tuned into JC's infolink frequency.

"How are you doing?"

"Exfiltrated the building."Came the reply. He sounded beat, "I made like a scared employee and got out of Data Entry just fine."

Tracer smiled. "I'll be sure to bring the big news to the two Dragon Heads."

"Over and out."

* * *

"Well, what the hell happened over there, anyway?" Said Walton Simons angry holographic uplink.

Page wiped his brow, and brushed a little dust off his suit, "Our two favorite rouge agents stopped by with a sack load of guns and explosives. We lost twenty five troopers, six commandos and two P Agents."

"Jesus Christ...Was it an unprovoked attack?"

"I don't think so...we lost the ROM encoding for the Non Eutectic Blades. I expect we'll be seeing more flickering blue blades in the hands of those damn Triads soon enough."

"That means they've established an alliance...Damn! I told Chow to be careful..."

"Yes, well, I just sent her down to SubLevel Two, maybe she won't screw up down there."

"...This is going to be a major blow to our contingency plan for China. We may have to put Washington on hold."

"Absolutely not. The super freighter is still on its way towards America. It'll arrive in four hours. I can't just send it back now."

"I'll take command, then. Send my regards to Agent Wilhelm."

"You have enough troops in New York for a full on assault?"

"About one thousand. We'll have the element of surprise, trust me."

"Good."

"...By the way, I did dig up a little private files on the Denton brothers. Paul's private journal yielded some rather intresting things regarding 'Miz' Chow."

* * *

JC put his car on hold right next to the buddhist temple, and walked up the steps. The head monk stood in the middle, with a rather annoyed look on his face as the two Dragon Heads, once enemies, were now vigirously shaking hands with each other. JC removed the Dragons Tooth Sword, and placed it on the table standing before a large golden Buddha. He felt slightly silly after seeing the position it was in, and sat down. The monk threw him a venomous look, spurring him to get right back up.

"Let us be quiet." Said Gordon Quick, "Agent Denton has retrieved the soft ware component. Please accept our gratitude."

"It is my honor." JC said. He rolled his eyes.

The two Dragon Heads plunged into a deep speech, allowing each other to take over from time to time. JC stood around and paced back and forth around the entrance until he felt a small prick on his check. He turned around, expecting to see the disgruntled monk wielding a small blow pipe, but only saw the two Dragon Heads continuing their speech. He looked up towards the skylight. He thought he saw someone standing there, but as soon as he noticed, Gordon Quick tapped him on the shoulder.

"Mr. Denton, you will have to join us later for drinks at the Lucky Money club. I do hope that they have gotten rid of the damage..."

"My people work quickly, my friend." Max Chen said with a laugh.

"Thanks, maybe I'll stop..."He looked up. Nothing. "...by."

"In the meantime, Tong would like to see you."

Arm in arm, they left. The monk snorted decisively, "Ha! Honor. Their grandfathers shot at each other with uzis...They'll be at it again, soon enough."

JC saw that they had left the Dragons Tooth, so he picked it up and slipped it onto his belt. He went back to the car, and got back into his trench coat, which he felt much more safe in then the tuxedo.

He got back behind the drivers seat, and drove over to the Luminous Path headquarters, parking in the small warehouse that they used as a gateway to their main complex. He got out, punched a code into the concealed keypad that lay behind a disused dumpster, and went down the stairs into the altogether more congenial Luminous Path compound. Two white uniformed Triads smiled and bowed, obviously pleased with the new truce. He simply offered a small wave, and moved onto Tracer Tongs laboratory. He found the scientist hunched over a television screen. He didn't even seem to notice JCs arrival.

"The peace between the Triads is offical." JC said aloud, secretly hoping to scare the otherwise unmovable man.

No seeable reaction from Tong, he didn't even turn around, "Good." He moved over to his computer base, and tapped a few touch sensitive keys on the interface. He passed through several folders and directories, and finnaly came to the ROM encoding folder. It contained detailed explanations behind the science of the sword, nanite manufacturing, and custom design kit for making unique blades.

"Very good. My people will begin manufacturing soon." He turned around, "Tell me about the laboratories."

JC frowned, remembering his flight through the complex after Vixens intervention, "Data Entry was strictly VersaLife business only. Lotta shifty people were up there, like this guy who was convinced that he was going to get Grey Death simply for having the job he had. The labs...well, they spent alot of money there. You could certainly tell by the lobby. Has MJ-12's signature written all over it. Anyway, the main lab seemed to consist primarilly of seperate research divisions. Nanotech, biology...some very weird things. They had this body on a slab that looked a lot like one of those aliens from Roswell. Also some prisoners, who, from what I saw, were all mentally unstable. They also had a commercial department just a bit beyond the labs. Bob Page was there with a whole bunch of corporate executives, but they didn't seem to mind everything that was around them." He considered this last part for a moment, "It would appear that we still have a mutual intrest."

"Did you see anything else?"

"A large door marked "Level Two Labs."

"That must be where they keep their Ambrosia research. Perhaps even something regarding the Grey Death. I've got nothing in the way of a cure, you see. Your brothers failure in New York has left me with nothing."

_A nicer way of telling me that I was the problem. I regained all the shipments for UNATCO..._

"Do you really think that you can find a cure for this thing?"

"That cannot be determined unless I have a schematic of the virus particle itself, and the molecular structure of Ambrosia."

"I'll go back to the labs,"_Not that I actually WANT to..._,"but won't they be ready for me?"

"We've been visiting those labs for quite awhile now, so I know of a back entrance. There's an old, disused maintenace shaft that leads down into a more frequented maintenace tunnel, which in turn, will lead you to Level Two. The shaft itself is located inside the underground freeway, very close to where the tunnel collapsed. It's locked behind a door, which opens to the code 55655. The rest is up to you."

* * *

Twenty minutes later, JC was tugging fitfully at the brown trenchcoat he was now wearing. Another disguise, one that would add to the effect that he was a private investigator. His other trenchcoat was directly underneath the one he was wearing, making his body unbearebly hot. He parked his new car near the access tunnel that would lead down to the Canal Road Tunnel, and ultimately back into MJ-12's malevolent laboratories. Two big trucks flanked the entrance, eblazoned with "Chinese Highway Authority."

He waited in the car for five minutes, looking for someone to come out and send him on his way, but no such thing occured. From where he could see, the VersaLife building was at least half a mile away. He was on a public underground access, but his vehicle was the only car on the road, it seemed. Puzzled, he stepped out of the car, and looked around the trucks. Many road blocks were stationed behind them, flanked by a small mobile command center that sported the same logo that the trucks did. There was no one around. Strange.

He removed the brown trenchcoat, and approached the nearest truck, meaning to open it. After jerking the handle, he realized it was locked. He listened for movement inside the large container, but heard nothing.

Disconcerted, JC backed away from the trucks, and back over to the road blocks, slipping between them.

_Who puts up a roadblock and leaves no one to guard it?_

He stumbled on something, and found his answer. A spent bullet case lay underneath his right boot. Frowning, he picked it up, and instantly saw more spent cases. He looked over to the left side of the tunnel, and saw a host of bullet holes. Several minute splotches of blood. He was surprised he hadn't seen them earlier.

It could have been a vast number of things, he told himself. Some thugs shot the place up while the authorities were out drinking, a Triad hit or-

_Or someone is preparing to meet you, and they had to go through these guys first._

Ignoring the protests of what he assumed to be his better judgement, he went on down the long, winding road of the tunnel, hoping to see that maintenance door soon. He passed a gas station two minutes into his jog, one that led back up to street level, but the stairs were blockaded. After checking every nook and cranny in the place, he went back out onto the main road. Several minutes passed by with agonizing slowness. Every minute was one that he spent wondering if someone was stalking him. He refused to be scared into leaving, and so far nothing had happened. He began to relax a little before he saw a large black van lying there in the middle of the tunnel. To the left was an industrial looking door with a keypad next to it. He ran over to it, not caring if someone was running up to him with murder in their hearts, which was exactly what was happening.

He punched the code into it, and watched as the door slid open. The lights in the tunnel went out at that moment, and he heard the little _tap tap_ of approaching feet. JC instantly lunged through the maintenance door, looked for a closing mechanism, and saw one at the upper right hand side of the door. He punched it, and the door slid shut. A second later, something pounded against the metal. JC held his breath. More footsteps outside the door, quiet and calculating. Deffinately human. JC felt something in his heart that he hadn't even felt when Gunther was stalking him in the dark tunnel. Terror. He felt vastly alone, and afraid. It scared him that the only thing seperating him from his assailiant was simply a small maintenance door.

_One that has a code, thank you very much. Get a hold of yourself. Act like nothing happened. Find a way into the MJ-12 base._

"Access Denied." Came a voice from behind the door. The keypad. More denials sounded. JC slowly began to feel safe. And in place of his terror, came a cold horrible rage. He was tired of being these special agents play things. He was sick to death of having to kill mercenaries at every turn. He was out of patience with the intolerable Vixen. JC got out the Dragons Tooth Sword and activated it. He punched the opening button. Hard.

_Swell way to get yourself killed._ He thought as the door slid open. A gasp of surprise came from the darkness. JC lunged forward and grabbed someone in a leather jumpsuit. He felt the chest, and found that his assailiant was male. No matter. He stabbed the person he could not see with the sword. Again. Again. Again. He continued slashing and stabbing and impaling until he felt an organ plop into his hand. He had a brief mental picture of what the man looked like now. A deeply bloodied and mutilated corpse. He released his hold on the man, and heard a meaty thump. He went back into the maintenance room, unhooked a gratting that led downward, and threw up. Afterward, he let himself slip down through the shaft.

* * *

There was a moment of vertigo as JC slid down the completely vertical shaft, a sea of blue steel and various coiling links that filled his senses as he descended. The incident with the late assassin left him feeling energized and ready for anything. No...not just energized...ecstatic. The fall through the shaft helped greatly, he decided. It powered the adrenalline rush. The whole thing was a thrill to him, not knowing if he was simply going to hit a steel grey solid floor and break every bone in his body, or fall into deep, cool water.

His vision was suddenly engulfed in darkness. He activated his vision enhancement, and looked around. Still falling, but he had hit a section that wasn't exactly well lit. As soon as he closed his eyes, he felt a tingling sensation in his legs. The sensation felt strangely foreign, yet famliar at the same time. When it had reached his head, he understood that it was water. He wouldn't be dying today. A series of pipes criss-crossed all around him, so he grabbed hold of the nearest one, and hoisted himself up. Another one dangled not far from where he was, and he pulled himself up to that one as well.

A large circular tunnel lay in front of him. He shimmied his way over to it along the pipe, and leapt through. After going forward a few feet, his infolink chimed in.

"There is a device in this facility called a "Universal Constructor." It is one of two devices in the world capable of producing the nano-mechanical plague you refer to as "The Grey Death." I require you to destroy it. Use the self detonation code, 525."

The same voice as his mysterious benefactor, Daedalus. He leaned forward, now agitated that this man had to drain the life out of the adrenalline rush he had been experiancing, and instead replaced it with more questions.

"Wait! What's a Universal Constructor!" JC yelled out in the darkness.

No response from Daedalus. Instead, there was a breif humming. JC listened intently. After a minute, he sighed and started back off down the maintenance shaft. Daedalus, almost obnoxiously, came back to him at that moment, "Update: I require you to eliminate one Samantha Waters, Director of the Grey Death research. At the moment, she is currently working maintenance on the Univeral Constructors sub systems. I will alert you when you find her."

"I have to kill an unarmed woman?" JC exclaimed.

"Perhaps you did not hear our previous transmission correctly. She is the lead researcher of the GREY DEATH plague. You will eliminate her for her crimes against your race."

"I can't help that she concocted a virus when she probably didn't even know what it was going to be used for!"

"Allow me to put it towards you in simpler terms. If you do not comply, I will alert every trooper in the entire building to your very location, and will proceed to close all exits. Over and out."

JC stood there in silence for a long time, contemplating the threat.

_This is bullshit. How can he so easily control everything I'm supposed to do!_

_**Don't kid yourself. You've always been controlled by SOMEONE, in one form or another. It's up to you to decide who to trust, though.**_

He sighed, and continued down the corridor, still wondering what the hell a Universal Constructor was.

* * *

Maggie Chow sighed to herself as the elevator descended multiple floors, each one signified by a passing ventilation fan, throwing phantasms of dark and light upon her face. She screwed up. It was all her fault. The triads were making peace, and MJ-12 was losing money and power now. All because she had to manipulate JC Denton, instead of simply killing him. Goddamnit. The elevator pinged.

"SubLevel Two."

She stepped out of the elevator and waved her two bodyguards off. They went back inside, and departed for SubLevel One. It was cold and dank down here.Her new job was supervision of maintenance on the Universal Constructor, and she had to answer to Samantha Waters, her immediate superior on the Council Of Twelve. It had all been so well planned out, but somewhere along the way, it had all collapsed. She was certain that it was JCs fault, but a smaller, but altogether more firm voice in her head told her it all collapsed when she had had sex with his brother, and simply for the hell of it. She continued down the hallway, feeling silly in her red dress while everyone around her was mostly maintenance personal.

She involuntarilly reached towards the Cobras Tooth. Carressed it. It made her feel more confortable. She sighed, and went through another door, finnaly coming out into the UC control room, Waters being the only occupant.

"Was wondering when you'd show up..."She began. She was about forty in age. Looked thirty. Her blonde hair obviously took masterful combing and a hefty bottle of shampoo. She was one of those people whos beauty was proportinate to their intelligence. Unfortunately, she was a complete bitch at the same time.

"Okay, 'Miz' Chow, I'm putting you in charge of UC surveillance. If you see anything suspicious, don't go drawing that rediculous sword of yours, just call security. I'll be staying here to finish up this diagnostic."

She began to mumble to herself, probably assorted code. Maggie sighed heavily, and went down the next hall, nimbly dodging a patroling commando, and went down the ladder, towards the security room on the far side of the cavernous UC room. The Constructor itself took up most of it, hanging suspended in the middle of the chamber, hoisted there by a series of large steel uplink tubes that both kept the device in place, and fed production data into it at the same time. Two maintenance men were working on the UCs body, using bungee ropes from above to do their jobs. They were both laughing callously, about how the thing would eventually give them cancer. Which, of course, was preposterous. The chemical, nanological, and gravitational components were kept safely inside the UC's dampening chamber.

Maggie finnaly reached the security office, and went inside. She lit a high quality cigar, and eyed the "No Smoking" sign to her right. She smirked, and flipped the sign over.

She relaxed, and took a look at the surveillance screens infront of her. The labs on SubLevel One were still in disarray from JC and Vixens surprise appearence. They always seemed to be one step ahead of them. She turned to the next one. Bob Page walking down a corridor, with a mobile holograph in tow, showing Walton Simons.

_Hmm..._

She flipped the volume control, and their voices blasted out in front of her, too loud to make anything out. Cringing, she turned it down a few notchs, and listened.

Simons was talking, "...Dated a single year ago, when Paul was still with us, I believe. 'Today was a day of...well, desperation, to put it lightly. Things with Maggie have gotten out...complicated.'" Said Paul Dentons voice. Maggie shrieked, and instantly flipped the moniter off. They knew! _They knew._ She would be layed off, set off as a lost cause. But they didn't just lay people off, THEY KILLED THEM.

Wait...would they? On one mission Agent Hela had raped two full grown men, but they didn't even blink an eye-

_But this is Paul Denton we're talking about. The traitor._

She looked around catiously. She would calm down, and simply leave. That was it, that's all she would do.

The rafter moniters suddenly got something. Movement. Man size and shape.

Maggie Chows anger was immediatly replaced with something far more sinister.

* * *

JC removed another set of gratings, and peeked down. He saw a blonde scientist working on a three monitered computer.

"You have found the target, eliminate her."

Infiltrating the lab had been surprisingly easy. Most of the security was probably out dealing with Level One. Only maintenance personal were around, and not even they had seen him. Only a few rafter shafts, and already he was in front of his target. He raised his magnum, now silenced...and holstered it, for the time being. He dropped down, and instantly seized her, shooting out the nearby camera first.

"What? What!" She cried out in terror.

"I need to ask you a question." JC whispered. "I'm supposed to kill you, but I've been having second thoughts. Do something, and I won't entertain that notion much longer."

She was silent for awhile, "You're Denton...aren't you?"

"Who wants to know?" JC hissed, and felt stupid after doing so.

"Why? Why not kill me now?"

The situation with Vixen came back to him. He involuntarilly loosened his grip on his captive when faced with the memory. Why hadn't he killed her! But...was he really that cruel, at heart? Did this woman deserve to die when unarmed? Surely they could keep her alive and allow her to face proper charges when all of this was over.

_IF it ever is over._

There was a sudden ringing sensation in JCs skull for a moment. He staggered back, and suddenly realized that he had been punched hard in the face. He could see the female scientist now back on the computer, doing some unknown task.

_She has a mean right hook..._JC couldn't help thinking.

She was saying something, in a high booming voice, but JC didn't hear it. Something was making a loud ruckess from behind. He raised the magnum and fired, the shot skewering her skull. His vision cleared up at that moment, and he was able to see blood everywhere from the shot. He looked at the computer screen.

RUCK TANK OPEN

_What the hell is a Ruck?_

Something roared from behind, and JC got his answer. Turning around, he saw a large..._thing._ It was clear that it was a transgenic, but somehow more violent looking than any of the others. It looked like a rough cross between a full sized ape, and Bravo Three military bot. It was hunched over like the former, and he could see fur spreading out from various locations, but that's where the resemblance came to an end. The rest of it was pure steel. A bio-mechanical leviathan. Looking behind it, he could see a large cage there, and several other, similiar looking ones as well. The scientist must of opened it...

"Freeze!" Came a voice from the side. JC turned his gaze away from the...Ruck...and saw a Commando standing there. Somehow he hadn't noticed the Ruck, yet. JC cocked his head back to the Ruck, who was slowly advancing towards them. The commando didn't turn his head, but he registered the Rucks presence all the same.

"Holy shit!" He yelled.

JC dived to the side in a tucking roll, and fired two magnum shots into the Ruck as the Commando began to fire at it wildly with shrapnel rounds. The Ruck turned its attention toward the Commando, and, with sudden grace and speed, dashed over to the MJ-12 mech and headbutted him. The Commando flew through the air, and hit the glass observatory window, where JC noticed a huge device.

_The Universal Constructor..._

The Commando dented the glass, but did not do enough to break it. He let out a pained groan, and looked back up as the Ruck trotted over to his inert form, and...hugged the Commando. JC stared at the sight, bewildered now. But soon it became apparent that it was in no means friendly. The Ruck stood back, and the Commando seemed to be screaming in pain. Several red blinking devices were drapped around the Commandos insect like armor. The mech attempted to push them off, but they clung tightly. A loud resonating beep sounded from the devices, and the Commando exploded in a ball of flame that obliterated the glass window. What was this thing built for?

The Ruck turned its large, bionic head toward JC, and its one red eye seemed to gleam. He dodged again to the right to avoid its sudden dash towards him, and tore the silencer of his magnum off, running down the corridor from which the Commando had came. He loaded armor piercing rounds into the feeding ramp, and turned around. The Ruck arrived two seconds later, with huge mechanical groans of steel. It instantly lunged at the former UNATCO agent, who activating his speed augmentation and jumped over the monster. He turned and fired off six shots into the backside of the beast. Blood and bits of metal came off, and the monster seemed to moan in pain.

It turned, and took a sudden swipe at JC, catching him in the stomach. He was sent a few feet back, and hit the floor. JC sprang back up, and dodged to the left as the monstrosity grabbed at him. He pressed the barrel of the magnum into its head, and fired three times. Blood splattered into the wall behind the Ruck, as large bits of armor and steel were ripped clean from its head. Blood continued to seep out of the pores of its bio-mechanical face. It turned again, and headbutted him all the way across the winding corridor. He came to the end of his fall right back inside the control room, UC in sight. He struggled to get up, and did so just in time to see the Ruck carrening down the corridor. He rolled to the side, and fired another shot into its back as it went past. The life seemed to be litterally sucked out of its body, and it collapsed to the floor with an almost whimpering moan. JC breathed out, and instantly hailed Tong on his infolink.

He came up a second later, breathing hard and sounding worried, "JC..."

"What the hell was that!" JC exclaimed.

"Some sort of new transgenic." Was all Tong could manage, "My god...what a creation. Can you get some data on it? How's the UC monitering computer?"

He looked up, past the Rucks body, "It's fine."

"Good. Get the schematic for the Virus, and see if you can find any data on this creature."

JC walked over to Waters' headless body, and fished around in her pockets. He came up with a data cube that contained some idle notes on the UC, and the login for the computer. He looked back at the Ruck with a shuddering breath, and logged into the computer. He passed through several directories, and eventually found one with a detailed report on the Virus body, habits, and schematic. He sent it to TTUnderNet, and looked around for anything concerning the Ruck. He found this one much more easily than the Virus schematic.

_Transgenic Monitering Report, dated November 19th, 2052_

_**T-R 04 "The Ruck."**_

_The Ruck is our latest creation in the field of genetics manipulation with orangutans and full grown apes. With a full set of high impact resistant body armor, two shoulder mounted submachine guns, and brutal close range combat capabilities, The Ruck is, without a doubt, the most advanced of the four species of Transgenic. _

_It can be freely deployed into any battlefield with little support, and it devastating at any range. Though effective against infantry, it is to be primarily used as an Anti-Tank weapon, as it has the ability to _actually_ create bombs within its body, and deploy them as sitcky mines._

_A drawback, however, is that the Ruck cannot take sustained high caliber rounds to any part of its body. Please advise Obsidian armor replacement._

_Samantha Waters._

After reading this, JC sent the file to Tracers email address again, and looked out towards the Universal Constructor. It was a large, ultramodern looking device that seemed to hum with energy. A small delivery platform lay beneath its box-like structure, presumably where...whatever it created would go. A hollowed out section of the floor lay underneath it all, probably as a waste disposal facility.

"To answer your question," Said Daedalus suddenly,"The Universal Constructor is powerful device that can litteraly create biological, physical, and just about anything composed of matter out of thin air. By taking Anti-Matter globules, and processing them to freely mingle with regular matter without detonation, one has the ability to create anything possible. This includes transgenics. It is currently down for maintenance. There is a security panel sitting in front of the maintenance path surronding it. Remember. The code is 525."

JC went back down the right corridor, now stained with dark red blood and bullet holes, and went down a ladder, coming to a catwalk below. The UC hung there suspended in mid air, kept aloft by several black tubes. It was an amazing technological achievement...

After descending another ladder, he was finnaly on the ground, now underneath the giant machine. He found the panel right in front of a security station. It held a small keypad, presumably for use in carrying out construction commands. He quickly inputted the code 525, and almost immediatly the entire chamber began to shake violently.

Tong came over the infolink, "Get out of there! It won't be long before the entire chamber goes up in smoke. The waste disposal facility is below you, go!"

JC peeked over the side of the precipice, and now saw several panels slide backward, revealing water underneath. As he prepared to dive, someone took his trench coat, and flung it to the side.

"What the-" JC shouted.

Maggie Chow stood behind him, with a large grin on her face as she held his trenchcoat. How did she do that!

She flung it away, and took out a large shimmering blade. It resembled the Dragons Tooth, but was bright yellow in color.

"Bad move Agent." She hissed.

"You should never have tried to send my down to the Police station. And especially should not have sent a group of incompetant assassins. Turns out that your on your way to being one of Hong Kongs most wanted."

She smirked, and looked back up at the UC, watching the black tubes that held the device suspended slowly start to explode one by one.

"I have always been 'most wanted.' I will simply deal with the police the same way I deal with the slanderous press."

JC was suddenly reminded of the hyper active newspaper lady, back at the market. "How's that?"

"Precisely the same way I intend to deal with you."

She slashed vertically down at JC with the sword. He rolled to the side, and looked around frantically for a weapon. He only found the DTS, which was hoisted to his belt. He took it out, and activated the nanite swarms inside, watching the blade knife out into the air in a blue glow.

_You're gonna get slaughtered. She's far more experianced._

He blocked another slash, and forced her blade back. Another explosion erupted from the Universal Constructor, sending huge pieces of steel and metal crashing around them. He tried a swipe, but she blocked it easily, the nanites in both swords cancelling each other out. He put all his weight into the next move, and slashed down upon her. She rolled nimbly to the side, and brought her own blade up towards his mid section. He blocked that just in time, both blades coming within a hair of his chest.

He kicked the former actress hard in the stomach, sending her back a few feet. They edged over to a large black catwalk overlooking the waste disposal facility. MJ-12 troopers were coming down from the catwalk to investigate. Another section of the UC shattered, sending a huge gurgle of flame into a group of MJ-12 troopers coming over from the catwalk, destroying both them and the catwalk itself.

Chow twirled behind the large black pillar that held the delivery plate of the Universal Constructor up, and dissapeared for a short moment. JC stood there for a moment, looking up at the exploding UC.

_C'mon. Just grab your coat and escape. She'll die along with the rest of this chamber. _

She heard Chow cackling madly, in perfect rythm with the cacophony of the exploding UC.

_No. I'll be damned if I let her get away with this._

He dashed over to the right of the pillar, and lunged forward. He caught his assailiant off guard, but missed his strike. Damn! He backed away from Chow, and suddenly felt a blinding pain in his side. She'd hit him.

JC ignored the wound for now, and backed up, and back onto the catwalk, Chow following closely.

He ducked underneath a horizontal slash, but couldn't get his sword around in time to stab at her stomach. Their swords clashed again, the brilliant light illuminating Chows insane grin. She was enjoying this. JC made a move to impale her, but she caught the move and shoved his blade off center, giving her enough leyway to make a fatal attack. JC dropped his blade, and kicked her in the stomach. She cringed at the impact, and tried feebly to stab him again, but to no avail. JC picked up the DTS again, and impaled her neatly through the stomach. She coughed up blood, and fell backward into the pit, hitting the metal with a resounding crunch.

JC stared down at her for a moment, then, pausing only to retrieve his trenchcoat, dived down through the shaft, and into the water.

* * *

No...how...could she lose? Maggie Chow stared up at the shaking Universal Constructor, and silently laughed to herself. After all these years of crossing and double crossing, she finally met her match.

Her stomach area felt oddly cold. Strange. She looked down at it, and...

Something horrible let itself loose in Chows mind. Insanity overwhelmed her at the sight of her bodily liquids pouring freely from where they were supposed to be held in place.

_Oh no. This will make me look horrible for the rehearsal. Mr. Ottowonchi will have my head..._

She moved to get up from where she was, but found that it was impossible to move. Maybe she'd slept the wrong way? Was it her back?

She had no time for this...She forced herself to get up, and a huge resonating crack erupted from her spinal cord. She was back down again, and this time all attempts to move brought her into great pain. She cried. She wouldn't get the part at _this_ rate!

She looked around for the bell to ring for the nurse, but it seemed to be gone. All she saw was cold hard floor and metal.

_Oh yes, Mr. Honchi, splendid indeed. _

_Oh, the hurricane last night? Yes, I suppose those yellow lights WERE strange for such weather..._

Those were only SOME of the lines she'd spent all night rehearsing, and now-

Something large exploded above her, and Maggie Chows world instantly went black.

* * *

Aurthors Note: Short, I guess. Next chapter will be even shorter, I think. 


	21. Tracer Tongs Laboratory

_**Deus Ex: The Conspiracy**_

Arthurs Note: We're finally leaving Hong Kong. This chapter will probably be a short one.

Chapter Twenty One: Tongs Laboratory

There was a humongous cacophony of light and sound as JC swam through the man sized pipes of the UCs waste disposal unit.

_That must have been the Universal Constructor..._

A tremendous rumbling followed shortly thereafter. Whatever crimes Chow had commited, she was certainly now paying them, with intrest. JC continued to swim along through the pipes, feeling a small nagging sensation in his left hip, where Chow had slashed him with her strange nano blade. It was really only superficial, but he felt something spreading from that, into other parts of his body. He couldn't suficiently identify it, and that unnerved him.

He took a left through another large pipe, and came out into a more open chamber, but still filled with water. Eriee blue light played on his sunglasses as he beheld a strange sight in front of him. There was a carcass floating in the water, human, wearing scuba gear. Clutched in the bodies unyielding arms, was a small box. JC released his hold over it, and was momentarilly disgusted at the small that wafted down at him. The body was at least one week old. Tucking the box into his trenchcoat, JC continued on, going through another pipe, this one much darker than the chamber he'd been in.

Something came from that darkness, snapping its jaws at him. JC pressed the hilt of Dragons Tooth Sword into the young karkians snapping mouth, and activated the blade. The karkian screeched in pain. JC slid the blade upward, the blue glow of the nanites illuminating the karkians twisted form. It split neatly in half, and both halves floated up into the chamber, joining the dead diver. Blood billowed from its inner regions. Cupping his mouth, JC continued onward, now struggling with the airless environment. He proceeded another ten or so feet, and a updraft of air blew him up into another chamber, and straight up into the air. There was a breath moment where he lay there, suspended in mid air, like the coyotee in some classic cartoon he'd once seen.

_Or not._

..._What?_

The moment ended. JC fell back into the water, and lay there floating, still affected by the updraft. He swam a good distance away, and, now with a sufficent amount of oxygen, hauled himself up, and onto a maintenance pathway. Still wondering what was going on in his head, he became dimly aware that Tracer Tong was talking excitedly through his infolink. Daedalus had contacted him earlier, congratulating him. He was still untrusting of his mysterious benefactor after the threat of calling the guard should he not comply with his orders.

"Seems to be some inventory data there; VersaLife has been synthesizing the virus in great quantities."He was saying, "The entire stockpile has been loaded onto a superfreightor, going to New York." There was a thoughtful 'ho-huming' from Tong, "Intresting. The last owner of the ship was a man called Stanton Dowd. Ever heard of the Illuminati?"

JC continued to lay there, but now Tong had his attention. "Illuminati!-"

"Come back to the compound, I have much to tell you!" He cut out.

JC got up, feeling the indescribable urge to rip out some of his own hair. Illuminati! Did the old man really believe in such thing?

The pain in JCs side chose this moment to further emphasize its presence. It was enough to make JC cry out in pain, and bend over. The word _poison_ breifly went through JCs mind. Even in death, Chow was still a threat. The feelings subsided, and he continued on down the pathway, (and also ignoring further ramblings from Tong about the Illuminati) and hauled himself over a few steel girders. He looked out, and went through one last pipe, and finally fell out into the Wan Chai canal.

* * *

As soon as the first concussive shockwave reached the upper levels of the VersaLife lab, Bob Page suspected another bombing. The holographic image of Simons flickered momentarilly, as his transparent blue form looked around in agitation.

"What? WHAT!" He yelled over the flickering lights and shaking floors. Page hit the deck, and remained there for a long time, perhaps two minutes, listening. Three more waves followed the first one, and everything fell silent. Yells of confusion echoed from other parts of the already chaotic Level One lab. Simons, once again, demanded to know what was going on.

"Another goddamn bombing!" He cried. He went over to a nearby monitor, pushing the MIB who sat there out of the way, toggled the Level Two monitors. Almost all of them, except for some maintenance tunnels that were filled with panicky, and doomed, technicians were offline. That included the Universal Constructor. He immediatly suspected the worst.

He bowed his head low, feeling the strange and inexplicable urge to cry. Instead, he banged hard on the terminal.

"We've lost the UC."

* * *

"This was your...seventh beer, lady. I think you oughta go." Ian the bartender sighed.

Vixen stared up from her seventh drink with a dazed expression on her face. For her own humor, both her eyes attempted to go in seperate directions, sampling right, left, up, down, and even some that blatantly did not exist. She failed.

"Ahem..." She started. She forgot what she was about to say. She thought it over a bit more, and suddenly remembered. "AHEM..." It was lost on her again. In her quest to remember, she decided that it must have been another order. Satisfied, she did just that.

Ian sighed, and mumbled something about getting sued for alcohol poisoning the next day. He went off to retrieve another drink, leaving Vixen to her scattered thoughts.

_You're a screwup. You weren't cut out for advanced Agent work. That's what they have mechs for. You should have just remained a soldier._

Ah, how she remembered those days. First two years, a UNATCO trooper, than an MJ-12 grunt. They found her skills "most exceptional", and gave her the chance to be an Agent, one of the first non-transhumans. They were probably gonna give her implants anyway.

_It's all a case of bad luck, really. They sent you up against JC. He's superior to you ten fold in every way. _

And that's why she was here in the Lucky Money again(which had been mostly repaired.) She decided to run away from it all, forget Majestic Twelve and JC Denton. When she was on her deathbed, she could reveal everything, her last crusade against the people who betrayed her. She was hardly interested in re-gaining their favor, anyway. But first, she was going to indulge herself to the one thing she couldn't have during all her years of training with the UN and their puppet masters. She accepted her eighth drink.

"And you have the capacity for...large shipments?" Said a voice from behind her. Strange...it sounded-

It was Max Chen. The very same man she had knocked out to get the DTS. Even in her drunken state, she remained perfectly still and calm with this realization.

"Any product, any port, any point of destination..." That must have been the Luminous Path Dragon Head. JC had already established an alliance...

"I might have a few...items...in my inventory." Chen considered.

The Dragon Head went on to brag about the Luminous Paths smuggling abilities.

_Okay...get up, and leave. Forget about Ian._

She looked back up, and saw that the man was watching her like a hawk. He returned the gaze levelly. She reached into her backpack, and fished around for her credit keeping device. It was gone. It must have dropped on her way out of the VersaLife building. Damnit. Ian seemed to administer this, and a long, toothy smile crept across his face. Without a word, she drifted from her seat, and went over to the railing that overlooked the first floor of the nightclub. Several dancers, and added security. She wasn't gonna get anything done while drunk. Ian continued to stare at her.

Vixen vaulted over the railing, and hit the ground in a tight forward roll. The feeling that followed didn't exactly do wonders for her drunken state. Someone shouted from above. The two guards at the door(who had recently been installed)reached for the assault shotguns tucked onto their uniforms. They weren't going to take any chances. Neither was she.

She rolled over behind the twisted staircase, and pulled out her silenced pistol. She heard the two guards advanced slowly, and they whispered to each other in low hushed voices. Max Chen was yelling out orders to them, seeming to have recognized her. The Luminous Path Dragon Head rushed down the stairs, taking out his own shotgun.

_This was a mistake, why did you choose to get drunk, you stupid fuck!_

Her vision slightly dazed, she darted out to the right, and saw one of the guards. She fired twice, the first shot missing completely and hitting the wall behind him. The second one tore through his chest. He fell. She hurried in the direction that guard had come, and failed to see the other one. She darted over to the large exit, and pushed both doors open. A shotgun blast erupted from outside, but it missed her stumbling form.

She looked back as she ran, and saw the Lum Dragon Head taking aim with his sawed off. She strafed to the right, and managed to avoid being hit by the buckshot. She rounded the corner, and didn't abate her run, but began to feel slightly relaxed. She took cover in a small shop, picking the lock easily with a disposable lockpick. She saw several forms run around outside. They didn't bother to check in her shop.

She fell back in the darkness, and hit her head on something. A shelf. She moved a bit, and continued her fall. She hit a video game booth. She moved a bit, and continued her fall. She hit something human.

Two hands instantly clapped around her mouth. She didn't bother to scream, nor struggle.

"Don't resist." A female voice hissed. It sounded erieely mechanical. "We mean you no harm..." The voice was english, not chinese. It had a touch of french in it, though.

_We?_

Someone else was there in the darkness. That someone went over to the light switch, and turned it on, but not before closing the shop shutters. The two hands released her. She got back up, and looked at her two "friends." The one who had kept her mouth closed was a woman with blonde hair, and a pair of slick aviators. They reminded her of JCs sunglasses. She wore a black leather jumpsuit, not much unlike the one Vixen wore. She turned around, and saw the other one. He was a male, black and bald, who wore a grey trenchcoat. He carried a VMP-90 automatic pistol. High calliber.

"I apologize for our methods of collecting you. We weren't entirely sure you were going to come into this shop, but I guess we were lucky." The woman explained.

"Who are you two?"

"Allow me to introduce myself, I am Rhylissa." The woman said.

"And I am Tobias Atanwe" The man said. He stepped closer, "Our employer would very much like to see you."

* * *

JC stepped forward into Tracer Tongs lab, and instantly saw his brother sitting around on a swivel chair, brooding. He was overcome with a joy he couldn't even begin to comprehend. Paul was safe! He walked over to him, and tapped him on the shoulder. Paul simply turned, and stared up into his hidden eyes.

"I'm glad to see you made it." JC instantly said.

Paul laid back on his chair with a small sigh, "Tong fix you up?"

"Yeah." It was obvious that Paul was okay, or he wouldn't be sitting down here. "How you feeling?"

"Like shit, actually," Paul laughed, "I cut it pretty close. I had only twenty two minutes left before he deactivated it. The helicopter ride was hell. And I lost all my augmentations in the process."

"Will you be alright?"

"Yes..."He said thoughfully, "I'll recover. I'll try to get back up with you as soon as possible."

"How's everyone else?" JC asked.

"Decker's fine, although a little shaken by what happened back at UNATCO. Erin's gonna stay here with Alex, he's here, too. Jaime took a detour to Paris, to do some research into UNATCOs databases. Miguel's around with Decker, and Dr. Moreau is going to stay here to help out with the anti-Greay Death research. You oughta talk to them all, let em' know you're all right."

"I'll do that."JC assured him.

Paul looked out over to Tong and Moreau, both were busy on seperate computers, "I hear you've been keeping busy."

"Just getting to know the locals,"JC joked, "Turns out VersaLife had a Universal Constructor; They were synthesizing the Virus right here."

"Yes, Tong told me, not a cheap gizmo." He looked at JC hard, "Are you wet?"

"Took a dive in the canal, I'll be fine. Majestic Twelve sure does alot of R&D." He remembered the Ruck, and shuddered slightly.

"Every ruler needs a power base. Without the people...well, you need to use something against them." Paul said.

"I've had a pretty rough time." JC said, "Lots of people out to get me."

"Yeah, which reminds me. Gunthers in the field. He's not exactly happy about what happened to Anna."

"We've met."

Paul seemed momentarily surprised, but quickly dispelled it, "What's that, you've got there?"

JC looked down at the box, and frowned, "Found it off a dead diver, near the UC." He laid it down on the table, and opened it. The interior was slightly wet, but it was no big deal. Inside was a host of weapon mods. "Wow." JC said.

"First reward in a while?" Paul said wryly.

"Quiet, you." JC hissed, still looking through all of the mods. He closed the box, and looked back over to his brother, "Do you want your magnum back?"

"No, keep it." Paul said, probably without a second thought.

"I'm going to check up on everyone else." He got up, and turned back to his brother, "Hey, do me a favor?"

"Yeah?" Paul asked.

"Get better."

JC walked down the stairs, tucking the box back into his trench coat. He made a left into the infirmary, and saw Erin sitting down, massaging her brow. "Oh, hi, JC." She said, getting up.

"Is Alex around?" He asked.

"Yeah. He's further down the corridor. I'm glad to see you made it."

"So am I." JC said. "I'm sorry, about Young."

"Thank you...really." She said quietly."Take it to them, JC." She sat back down.

JC continued on, and came into a communications room, of sorts. Alex Jacobson was it's only occupant, working on a computer. He looked back up at JC, and smiled, "Hey, JC."

He took a seat near Alex, and patted him on the back, "You all took a big risk following me here, thanks."

"Yeah...Jaime was pretty intent on going to Paris, so we let him go on another flight once we reached a British airport. Everyone else is fine. You talked to Paul, right?"

"Yeah." JC nodded. He frowned suddenly, looking through Alex's glasses, "How'd you all know where to find Tong so quickly?"

"Turns out I've known him for a long time. I've been going to his site, TTUnderNet for awhile. I put two and two together, and contacted him on the flight." He smiled again.

"Been keeping busy, so far?"

"Yeah. Tong kept me updated during the flight, and even let me help him out with the Dragons Tooth schematic. That's one hell of a sword, by the way. I just started work on processing the Grey Death virus schematic. "

"Sounds right up your alley." JC observed.

"Yup." He frowned suddenly, "Er, by the way, JC..."

"What?"

"I did some research into this shady character, the one who's been contacting you under the alias of Daedalus."

This got JCs attention. "Well? I'm still hearing from him."

"Yes, well, Crypto says that that Daedalus was the supposedly a goverenment AI project, also known as Echellon IV."

JC processed this. "Supposedly."

"Yeah..." He looked at JC hard, "Look, I got it from anyonmous crypto boards. Daedalus was supposed to beat the old content recognition problem into surveillance; It was a program that could search all terabytes of incrypted messages for subversive content."

"So...what happened?" JC pressed.

"Never panned out, I guess. The whole thing was just too hard. They blew through alot of taxpayer money before they scrapped it."

"So...the thing that's been talking in my head...is a ressurected intelligence?"

"I wish I knew."

"It's preposterous." JC said, but there was something of a lingering doubt in his head.

"I know. It's just a silly theory, no need to get so worked up over it." He turned back to the computer screen, "I've got alot of work to do. I'll see ya later."

JC left, feeling a little cloudy minded. An artificial intelligence...talking to him even when it had been shut down. Impossible. Yet...all the things that had happened. How did Daedalus know _so_ much. It made no sense.

He continued on into the armoury, and saw Decker there with a sniper rifle, trying out targets with Miguel. They both seemed rather laid back. Decker turned over to JC, and smiled broadly, "Hey JC." He turned back to the targets, and fired again. Miguel greeted JC as well.

After hitting a few more targets, Decker turned to JC, and said, "Tong wants to see you. He's got another mission planned, something to do with the superfreighter. He want's both of us to go with you for the job. We'll talk after the breifing."

Without another word, JC turned, and ran back over to Tongs operating lab. It was packed with technicians, Luminous Path and Red Arrow alike. Dr. Moreau was busy with a terminal, and Tong turned over to meet JC.

JC started first, as he remembered their infolink conversation from before, "Don't know if I care for your sense of humor."

Tong seemed geniunely confused, "Humor?"

JC frowned, "That Illuminati stuff. I was risking my life back there."

"No joke Mr. Denton. They're quite real, though not as powerful as they were at the beginning of the century. I know a few of the former leaders." He said levelly.

JC frowned, still not entirely convinced, "Like Stanton Dowd?"

"Yes, and Beth DuClare, and Morgan Everett. Most of them in Paris, I understand."

"What does the Illuminati have to do with MJ-12?"

"A question for Dowd. He's in New York now. Hopefully he will agree to meet you, which will be the first part of your mission."

"What about Daedalus? Alex told me something about him that I have trouble believing."

"Yes, a valuable informant. He sent me one of the codes I needed to find that superfreighter."

"I heard. That's enough virus to infect a continenant." JC stated, "And what about the Universal Constructor? I destroyed it on the advice of Daedalus..."

"Yes...You say that Alex told you something about him?" Tong asked.

"Some conspiracy mumbo jumbo." JC said dissmisively, although he still doubted his own words.

Tong smiled, "Mr. Denton, even you should know now that everything is not all that they seem, including this so called, "mumbo jumbo."

_He's got a point..._, "He said that Daedalus was an old AI surveillance program called Echellon IV." The words struck a cord in JC. Where had he heard of that again?

"An AI...the thought occured to me as well, but more likely it is just a cover for a real human being." Tong said, scratching his chin.

Frusturation creeped into JC's voice, "But who?"

"An influential man, we must assume, with a high measure of power. I don't like mysteries, Mr. Denton, but at least he appears to be on our side."

_But can we really trust him, when we don't even understand what his motives are?_ JC thought, "I don't like mysteries either."

"Agreed. Decker and Miguel have elected to join you on this mission. Even for a man of your abilities, some backup would be most sensible. Your pilot is conversing with Paul, I see." Tong said, looking out into the room where Paul was sitting.

Jock! JC had forgotten all about him. The man who had always been there for him had been surprisingly silent during his stay in Hong Kong. He walked out of the corridor, but not after bidding Tong and Moreau fairwell. He walked out of the operations room, and saw Jock and Paul talking silently, probably catching up with each other after all that had happened. Decker and Miguel were at the edge of the room, carrying duffel bags that were probably full of weapons.

Soon enough, Jock and Paul said their goodbyes, and all four of them left the compound, and upstairs to the roof, and Jocks waiting SH-17.

"Where have you been this whole time, Jock?" JC asked the wizzened pilot. Jock frowned, "I had to get out of VersaLife real fast, so I rented a room on the other side of town, and found a...ah, "friendly" group that was happy to keep my helicopter for awhile while I layed low. Sorry about that. Tong's given me some new equipment that'll let me stay in touch with you, so the same thing won't happen again."

"...Jock...what did we talk about again, at the Underworld bar?" It was only four days ago, JC realized. It felt like a lifetime.

"Er, Area 51..."

"You mentioned an old government program used to spy on people, what was it called?"

"Echellon." Jock said at once.

_Just like Alex's Echellon IV...this can't be a coincidence._ "Why, JC?" Jock asked.

"No reason." JC said, although he could tell that Jock suspected otherwise. Decker and Miguel were already well into a conversation, probably trying to ignore the task ahead of them. There was a slight haunted look behind Deckers eyes. He hadn't looked like that back at Pauls apartment. It was probably the loss of his friend, Young. JC was dully reminded of all the young privates he'd slaughtered back at UNATCO. The ones he'd known from the academy.

The elevator they were in came to a halt, and the four of them walked out onto the roof, the black helicopter looking just as JC had remembered it. There was, however, a medium sized brand that had been emblazoned into the side of the chopper. It looked like Jock had done his best to make it less visible than when it had been put there.

A hesitant gaze from Jock at the others confirmed JC's weird suspiscions, "Jock, who exactly WERE the people who took your helicopter?" He asked as they all got into the chopper.

Jock strapped himself in, and fitted a pilots helmet over his head, "Let's just say they won't be holding anyones bird for a long time, now."

Arthurs note: Expect more soon, hopefully.


	22. Hell's Kitchen Revisited

_**Deus Ex: The Conspiracy**_

Authors Note: We finally leave Hong Kong! We'll be getting to Paris soon enough...

Chapter Twenty Two: Hells Kitchen Revisited

* * *

_He felt...cold...so cold again that it made him want to cry. He'd grown so used to the warmth...the warmth of being outside of the large glass tubes. The feeling of snuggling up against his "mommy" in between experiments and tests. Why did they want to put him back in there?_

Eric sighed to himself sadly inside the glass tube as it made its way through the halls of what he called his home. He was finally getting used to wearing clothes, doing tests...killing the people they brought to him. The man called Page had ordered him to place back in the tubes, for what he called the "final preperations." The prospect scared him. Was he being punished?

The tube was set on a large pair of treads that wheeled him through the halls, flanked on both sides by his "parents." They were talking in low hushed voices.

"Clarissa, look, it just needs to go through, there's no way around it."

"I know!" She cried, anger flaring up easily, "But Page...his methods."

"It was a mistake to grow too attached to JC in the first place. They're going to wipe his memory as soon as the final preperations have been carried out. We did the same thing with Paul, and look what happened. He only remembers us as UN officals, not...not scientists who work in Dreamland for godsakes."

"Don't you dare tell me what's a mistake and what is NOT, Robby." She touched her belly, as if in deep thought. There's just a certain attachement to them that I feel. They DID come from my belly, right?"

"As a surrogate mother, perhaps. It's simply because you volunteered." Robert said. "Christ, why don't you tell JC that?"

"_Eric_ can hear you, Robert."

They looked over uneasily into the test tube. Clarissa with sadness, Robert with...it was hard to describe, but...recognition? He sighed, and looked back over to Clarissa.

"Meet me in the rec room after hours."

And so the treads continued.

* * *

"jc...wake up...jC...JC?"

JC Denton woke up with a start, and looked into Miguels face.

"Hey JC, Jock just wanted to tell you that we're very close to Hells Kitchen." He continued.

"Alright." JC mumbled.

Miguel sat back down in his seat, and added, "For a secret agent, you sure snore really loud."

JC was too scatter brained at the moment to respond. He looked around the cabin groggily, and saw Decker playing a computer game on a single monitor laptop. The game box was nearby, sporting a color of navy blue. He couldn't make out the name at this point.

The chopper continued to hum smoothly, hardly making any kind of noise at all. JC looked out the window, and, through some sick coincidence or the irony gods playing with his head, saw Liberty Island. It was still dark out here, dawn not much further away, so he could see multiple lights playing around the island. Things that looked like search lights. It was probably a good guess that UNATCO HQ looked more like a prison than an urbane United Nations facility, now.

An explosion erupted from Deckers game, causing JC cringe in his groggy state, "Turn that lower!" He barked.

Decker looked at him in surprise, and curtly lowered the volume. JC stared at the game screen for a moment, "What's it about?"

"It's an FPS/RPG."

"...A what?"

"First person shooter, role playing game."

"Ah." JC said, not really understanding at all. He never could get into video games. "What's the plot?"

"Real world conspiracies from the 20th century. This here's a classic, made in 2000."

"Uh huh," JC said, slipping back out of consicousness.

"Yeah, it's called Deu-"

JC fell back asleep.

* * *

"A cold one, hard, please."

Jordan Shea looked into the young ladies eyes suspiciously.

"Aren't you a little underaged?" She said, polishing off a pint.

"No..." Sandra Renton said, but Jordon could detect the lie almost immediatly.

"We mechs have better sensory inputs than humans do. I'll give you an oragne jui-"

Sandra slapped down a sixty credit chit

"Coming right up, missy." Jordon cackled, taking the credit and transfering it to her account. She gave the empty chit back to Sandra, and went to making the order.

She supposed that Martial Law DID have its uses afterall...

* * *

Meanwhile, Sandra trudged over to the nearby table, and sat around, skulking. Life had gone from bad to worse just after the declaration of martial law, and she supposed that she'd have to spend the night. Her father was back at the hotel, running damage control on Pauls destroyed apartment. The cops were there as well, searching for evidence. She had gone out to get groceries for their apartment, and had been rewarded by getting caught in the middle of looting inside the store. A pair of sleezy UNATCO troopers outside had gotten wind of it, and had come in to...kill everyone inside. Including everyone who had nothing to do with it.

They were young, probably 18 and 19 each, and had gotten, well, scared.

Sandra looked down at the gun her father had bought her after the run in with Jojo, and shuddered, remembering how she'd raised the pistol, after the troopers had started shooting...The explosion of light and sound as the gun fired, and the bullet, through means incomprehensible to herself and the survivors, had found its way through the younger ones protective mask, and shattered his head.

She had ducked after that, feeling nothing for the mans death, got back up, and found herself staring at the mean determined eyes of the other trooper. She fired three bullets. All hit him in the chest, and killed him. Since there was no one to tell of the incident, except for the civilians caught up in, Sandra had a feeling that she wouldn't pay for killing them. She was just _haunted_ by that look of surprise on the younger ones face as he knew his life was coming to an end.

Needless to say, she bolted out of there pretty quick, and found herself here, and her only company was Harley Filben and Jordan Shea. Harley was a sweet guy, but moe than a little weird. He always wore a smiled that told everyone that he knew something that many other people would never know about. He looked like a pauper, but in reality, he was rolling in credits, most garnered from acting as an informant for the United Nations.

Jordan Shea was an ex UNATCO mech aug, and had seen more than a little combat. She boasted that she knew more than the UN would have liked her knowing, but something told Sandra that she wouldn't be telling any of it until she was on her deathbed.

Someone came through the doors to the tavern, and Jordan looked up from the bar to see who it was. A man in a Marines outfit walked in, showing off at least a dozen badges. Before Sandra knew it, she was up and running, temporarily forgetting about her earlier deeds, and hugged Vinnie Golacks.

"Sandra!" He cried.

"Hey Vin." She backed up, and took a long look at him, "Guess you weren't kidding about being a marine."

"Always finish what you start," He said proudly, his southern drawl returning immediatly. "Haven't seen you in awhile. It must have been..."

"Two years, Vin." Sandra finished.

The two former best friends walked over to her table, where they conversed a little, mainly about what they'd missed since high school. Turned out that Vinnie hadn't gotten any smarter, but he was ahelluva lot more calm. Vinnie then went into great detail about his two operations since joining, and then his current post, where he depicted a great distaste for FEMA.

"So you work at the new Submarine pen?" Sandra asked over her beer.

Vinnie took a sip from his, "Yeah. But those Asian mafia guys run it like a prison. FEMA's behind it, they are." He smiled at her, "So, anything happened with you that I should know about?"

"Well, my dad's hotel got blown up, I got involved with a UNATCO defection, and to top it all off, I killed two people earlier today."

Vinnie frowned, "Well, if it was in self defense..."

"It was." She said quickly.

"Who were they?"

"Rioters.", She lied.

They continued their conversation after that, but on a lighter note. Soon enough, Vinnie delcared that he wanted to have a drink over at the bar alone, so he could think, and Sandra gladly let him do that. His life was so much more...well, eventful. But she decided that she'd had enough adventure for an entire lifetime.

JC Denton walked into the bar at that moment, and she suddenly knew that it wasn't over, just yet.

* * *

As soon as he saw Sandra, JC walked over to her calmly, looking around the bar. She stared up at him levelly. He sat down. A man in a marines suit gave him a funny look, but returned to his drink nonetheless.

"Hi Sandra." JC began. JC had decided to go alone, leaving Decker and Miguel back in the chopper. Going through the Ton' Hotel had been easy, he'd just posed as UNATCO secret agent, and they had given him leave. The streets were far worse, however. All of the UNATCO troopers knew his face, and the cops were ordered to shoot on site, or so Tong had told him. He spared all the cops he'd seen, quietly knocking out those who posed a threat, and stayed hidden for the most part. He had gotten into a scuffle with three UNATCO troopers, however, which ended with JC's trenchcoat getting two bullet holes in it, and three dead troopers. No one came to investigate the violence, however.

"What the fuck are you doing here, JC?"Said Sandra, still as blunt as ever.

"Came looking for Harley Filben."

"He's in the other room." Sandra said, looking over there.

"Thanks." He moved to get up, but thought better of it. He ordered a BM, and sat back down. Sandra smiled, actually appreciating the company, "Too bad about the hotel. I guess UNATCO shot it up pretty bad."

She gave him a funny look, "How do you know?"

"I was just-...Er..."

She sighed, "I hope you didn't hurt anyone," She looked out a nearby window, watching a Bravo 3 lumber down the road with a full squad of UNATCO soldiers. "Why are you here, anyway? You're America's most Wanted."

"I've noticed." Was all JC said as he took a pull at the pint he had clutched in his hand.

"You DIDN'T come all this way to talk to Harley Filben, did you?"

"No." He said quietly. What use was there in lying? JC thought, "No, it's not. He can bring me to a leader of the secret society known as the Illuminati."

"Ah." Sandra replied, drinking her own pint. She frowned, "This guy...he didn't happen to wear a grey trenchcoat, did he?"

"I haven't seen him yet." JC said. "Did he say who he was?"

"He said he was your cousin, but I think he was an undercover cop."

They were silent for the most part after that, until Sandra broke the silence, "JC...how many people have you killed?"

The question took him aback, but he made no show of it, "I don't know." He said. He thought the question over, "Many."

"Two."

"More problems with Jojo's thugs?"

"No...they were UNATCO. There was this store, and someone was looting it...they got scared, and starting killing people at random. I had a gun..."

JC stayed silent, "JC," She asked, "How do you feel knowing that, even when you've killed so many, you're still alive?"

"I...don't know how to describe it." JC said. Why was he here having a heart to heart talk with her when there was still so much work to be done, "It's a terribly impotent feeling."

"Thanks." She said, and he knew she meant it.

JC looked over to the bar, feeling slightly uncomfortable, and stared at the marine fellow, "You know him?"

"Oh, that's Vinny, from High school. He's nice, but simple."

JC got up, and looked at her, "I'll see you, Sandra."

"Good bye, JC."

She moved back to her drink, brooding. JC moved over to the bar, and ordered another one. Jordon took the time to reprimand him, "What are you doing here? UNATCO's out looking for ya."

"You ever hear of the name, Stanton Dowd?" JC asked.

"What do you want with Dowd?" Jordon questioned.

"A private matter. Any idea of where-"

"JC, look, that German mech already came through here an hour ago. Curfew's killin' business. You want to buy something-fine. Just leave me out of it. I'm not as fiesty as I used to be."

"Gunther..." JC said quietly.

Two bums came in, one of them with credits, the other with a blanket. Jordan smiled at JC, "I've got work to do."

She went on to serve the money holding bum, but not after supplying JC with a drink. He took a pull at his drink, and looked over to the marine fellow next to him.

"Out here because of martial law, "JC said conversationally, "I didn't know they were using marines."

The man smiled congenially, and shook JC's hand, "Names Vinny, and no, UNATCO likes to work alone. Just came out here to look up a girl, that one over at the table...Do you know her?"

"I used to live in her fathers hotel with my brother, so yeah."

"Yeah, ok. So anyway, FEMA gave me a pass for the curfew, you know, martial law and all that."

JC frowned, "What's FEMA doing handing out travel papers?" He immediatly suspected MJ-12 behind it, but couldn't be sure.

"They took over the new Submarine pen I'm stationed at." The marine said,"Now I don't like being pushed off duty, but I guess a little R&R never hurt anyone."

"Brought in their staff?" JC asked.

"Yeah, they kicked us out of our stations around the main pen yesterday. Replaced us with these black suited commandos of some sort. Me and buddies would sure like to know what's going on in there..."

JC drank a little bit more from his wine pint, "I would, too. Maybe I'll check it out for you."

Vinny frowned, "Er, you a cop?"

"Used to be."

"I'll say it straight; I'm a patriot. I'm not the kind of guy who's gonna sit quietly when I know there's a cover up going on. You know where the base is?"

"Something tells me that I'll find out soon enough."

"Great," Vinny said, not really caring at all to know just _where_ JC would get the information. "My buddies at the gate can let you in. Tell them that Vinny sent ya."

"I'll keep that in mind, thanks."

JC bid the marine fairwell, and went into the next room, spotting Harley Filben there almost immediatly. The green coated informant smiled, and beckoned him over with a slight wag of his fingers. JC put the drink down at his table, and took a seat.

"Ok-" JC began.

"What the hell are you doing back here?" Harley admonished, though his smile remained. "UNATCO's been tearing up all the possible locations you could be."

"I didn't expect it to be this bad...You still on the dole with UNATCO?"

"I forgot to mention...I'm been with the NSF all along."

"I figured as much-"

"-AND the Illuminati."

JC frowned, and said, "Then you can take me to Stanton Dowd? I need to contact him, he used to own a super freightor that's on its way to New York."

"What's so important about it?"

"Majestic Twelve has loaded it with enough Grey Death virus to infect an entire continent. I assume that you know about MJ-12."

"Whoa, whoa. MJ-12, they-" His smile finally dissapeared. JC felt an odd satisfaction in this.

"Manufacture Grey Death."

"We knew about the Ambrosia...but the virus..." Flben whispered.

JC inched forward, over the table, "I need to find Dowd."

"I'll contact him I guess..."

"Where's an optimal meeting place?"

Filben thought this over, frowning. Soon he came to a conclusion, "Anywhere out in the open would be suicide, even for you. So, I think...inside the old Os' Good and Sons place, yeah."

"How will I identify him?"

"Grey coat, all you need to know."

JC remembered the man claiming to be his cousin, and frowned, "Ok."

"If you'll excuse me, I've got a call to make." Harley said, and promptly ran out of the bar.

* * *

It was ten minutes later when JC arrived at the place he'd been at only several days ago. Now it was a burnt out husk. The NSF generator had been just past here. The entire area brought back uneasy memories about his time with UNATCO. A small sigh escaped him as he went down the street, and toward that place. There was only a slight problem, though. Four UNATCO troopers stood by, talking and laughing, probably laying back after a hard days work of abusing citizens. But who was he to blame them? Orders were orders. They were ordered to behave like common thugs, so they did just that.

It wasn't the troopers that bothered him, though, although they were a problem. It was the Delta 2 Bipedal Security Bot that patroled nearby. Though not as powerful as one of the Bravo 3 Military units he'd seen, it was still armed with enough firepower to mow down a small crowd of people. JC delved back into the excesses of his mind, trying to remember the briefing on these types back at the Academy.

Ok. They were relatively mobile, and had medium speed. Easily destroyed with a heavy explosive. Armed with a small chain gun slung underneath the body, and a short range flamethrower attached to said chaingun. Anti-Biological Heat vision.

JC pulled himself back to reality, and looked over to the security bot. Currently facing towards the Os' Goods place, away from JC. JC took out his assault rifle, and loaded in a small black cannister. It was a 20mm shell. Taking care to balance his aim, JC came out from his hiding spot, nearby a broken car, and fired the shell. It arced burlesquely through the air, making a terrible chugging noise, and detonated near the Delta 2. The force of the explosion did not destory the robot immediatly. Instead, it propelled the buzzing machine into the air, and smacked into the building across the street from the Os' Goods warehouse, where it burst into flames. The UNATCO troopers, insane with confusion and panic, ran away from the disfigured wreckage that fell back down into the street.

Satisfied with this event, JC hid back behind the car, and listened in for snippets of conversation.

"Jesus Christ, did you see that!" Said a high pitched, squeeky voice.

"Shut up! I wanna know who did it!" Said a more gruff and commanding voice. It sounded more than a little furious.

"Wait...are you blaming us, sir?"

"Well I saw NO one else here besides us, so..."

"That thing cost over twenty thousand credits, and you think we'd play a prank like that? Much less one that would get us killed."

"Godamnit I want answers!"

JC already had his sniper rifle out. He rose from the car, placed the barrel over the hood to stabilize the aim, and fired at a random UNATCO trooper. His head blew apart in a messy display of blood and gore. Unpretubred, JC moved the sight towards the head of a screaming trooper, and fired once again. He fell to the street, his head a bloody mess. The other two troopers took the initiative and ran for cover, hiding behind the barricades they were stationed at.

"Sniper!"

"I know you asshole, don't need to scream it in my ears!"

"Holy crap...holy crap...holycrap-"

"SHUT THE HELL UP!"

"He killed the lieutenant..."

"He's dead, private, shut up!"

"Where's Joey! JOEY!"

"He's dead, too! SHUT THE HELL UP!"

"Oh my god, NO!" Horrible crying sounds followed. JC felt something twitch behind his eyes, and frowned. What the hell?

"Stop it-GET BACK DOWN!"

A UNATCO trooper appeared in his sights for a moment. JC fired, but missed. "See!"

"Ohhh...myy god..."

"Where's the radio?" Some silence, except for the troopers continued sobs, "Here."

JC got up, realizing that they weren't going anywhere without sufficent backup, and ran over to the barricade, switching from 20mm to 7.69x10.

He leaned over the barricade, and looked into the eyes of a trooper. The other one was toggling with a radio. The man in front of him screamed, and JC double tapped his head. The other, taken by surprise, fumbled with gun while cursing. JC emptied several rounds into his chest. The street fell quiet again, except for the occasional movement from inside a building, or the raising of a window to see what was going on.

JC ran into the burnt out Os' Goods warehouse, and hid there for a long time, feeling emotions he could not comprehend.

* * *

JC woke up to feel someone pressing down on his shoulders. His first thought, however, was reprimanding himself for falling asleep. He looked up, expecting to see some hooded figure, or a man dressed like a priest, or something along those lines. He, instead, saw Sandra Renton.

"What are you doing here?" JC asked.

"I followed you." She said simply.

"Why?"

"I was simply interested, jeez!" She hissed quietly.

"I just killed a bunch of people and you still want to follow me?"

"They were bastards, anyway. They all are."

"Don't say that." JC said, getting back up.

"Why?"

"...It's a biased assumption, that's why." JC said lamely.

The New Yorker rolled her eyes, and sat down across from him, occasionally peeking across the street for any soldiers.

"I don't want to seem threatening, but I think you should go."

"I can take care of myself, JC. You know that."

Remembering Jojo Fine, and Sandra finally confronting him, he decided that it was a possibility.

"Where's your father, anyway? I didn't see him at the hotel."

She was quiet for a long time.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Sandr-" JC began to say.

"No, it's not as simple as that. He's alive...I think. He protested the decleration of Martial Law on the Net, and yesterday these two thugs came to our apartment wearing these plus size tuxedos. They looked _so_ weird. Anyway, they said that they were taking him to a government run prison, something funded by FEMA, when I looked it up."

"They were mechs." JC said absently.

She processed this for a moment. "They didn't _look_ augmented."

"Do _I_ look augmented?"

"You're a great agent, from what I heard from Janey, but you're obviously not a mech."

JC continued to stare at her, and took of his sunglasses, rubbing his bright blue eyes.

"You _are?_"

"I'm part of a new program. A nanological agent runs through my blood stream, giving me superior augmentations over mechs. I guess you can say that I'm more or less mostly human."

She smiled, and put her head back onto the wall behind her, "That's too funny. Vinny would love to hear this. He's so big into conspiracy theories and stupid shit like that, and here you are. A cyborg, or something."

"Those would be mechs, I'm what you would call 'Superhuman.' "

"Whatever, he'd still be interested. Are you telling me this because you're not with UNATCO anymore?"

"There's more to it, then that."

"Like?"

"For starters, the UN is controled in secret by a cabel of conspirators called Majestic Twelve."

"Oh, yeah. He told me about that once. Some sort of secret document, right?"

"That whole Roswell thing? I don't know. What I do know is that they exist, and they're planning to take over the world."

"This week just keeps on getting better and better. So who are the NSF, then?"

"Just people trying to make a difference."

"Uh huh."

"You, my girl, have just learned more than anyone else of your stature would in a lifetime." Said a voice from above them, "And the funny thing...cough is that it's about to get worse."

A man in a grey trenchcoat dropped into the burnt out husk of a building. It looked like an attempt at a dramatic enterance, but instead he just flopped over to the ground, coughing alot. JC assumed that this was Stanton Dowd. The two of them helped the wizzened old man back up, and sat him down near the wall.

"Much thanks, you two. My legs are not what they used to be." He coughed again. "JC, you really should not have told her all that..."

"Their greatest power is secrecy. If more people know about them, then we have that much greater a chance." JC said.

"And it's ours, too, my boy! Why do you think we have lasted so long against them?"

Sandra did not bother to conceal her confusion.

"He's one of the leaders of the Illuminati." JC explained.

"Ah."

Dowd sent JC another venomous look, but smiled congenially at Sandra, and sat down. They all joined him.

"Harley Filben contacted me. Valuable spy, that one is."

"And?" JC pressed.

"I agreed to meet you because we have a mutual enemy."

"Why did you both choose an abandoned building, anyway? I thought the Illuminati were bankers, politicians...Council of Foreign Relations types."

Dowd laughed heartily, "We've always stayed in the background, even when that was true." He coughed again.

"You alright?" Asked Sandra.

"Ah yes...you're the young woman from yesterday. Charmed, as usual. Oh, and I've caught this damn plague myself, pity, I know."

_He certainly is talkative._ JC thought.

Dowd carressed his wheezing chest for a moment, and continued, "Anyway, we never had...military like MJ-12, or even freightors full of bio weapons! If what you say is accurate."

"It's accurate. We just don't know for sure where it would dock. I already have an idea, but..."

"They'd want to hide it. The only dock big enough to harbour it would be the Advanced Navel Submarine Pen."

"Thought so. That's why FEMA took it over."

"Hmm...They'd probably store the virus inside the ships deisel tanks. The cleanest option would be to scuttle the superfreightor."

During this exchange, Sandras mind worked through what they were saying...the Virus...could that mean...?

"Scuttle it?"

"Yes, if you have the explosives. Smuggler should be able to supply that for you."

"I AM running short on 20mm and LAMs..."

"Good. Do you know where the Smugglers hideout is?"

"Yeah, I remember."

Dowd coughed again, and eventually had to lean on the wall to stablilize himself. Sandra moved forward to help, but was waved off by the old Illuminatus.

"You gonna be ok?" JC asked.

"I'm hanging in there. If you see any Ambrosia on that ship..."

"I'll try."

Dowd fished around in his pockets, and took out a wrapped piece of paper. He handed it to JC, "A blueprint of the ship. You should take it with you. The X's are the tri hold weldpoints. The circle indicates the Bilge pump controls. Reverse the flow, and destroy those weldpoints, and the ship should sink easily. Now go, I've got some business to take care of. "

With those words, Dowd turned, and walked away into the darkness of the rubble. After looking over there, JC did not see any viable points of escape for the old man. He shuddered, turned to Sandra, and led her off toward Smugglers lair.

* * *

Aurthors Note: Hope you enjoyed, will update soon. 


	23. Brooklyn Naval Shipyards

_**Deus Ex: The Conspiracy**_

Chapter Twenty Three: The Brooklyn Naval Shipyards

There was a knocking at Smugglers door, and he instantly went for his automatic assault shotgun. Striker in hand(as well as the attached barrel for minimal recoil and high stopping power), he opened the door, hid himself, and held the rifle aft, waiting for someone to come in. A man in a huge brown Russian coat strode in, casting a casual gaze around the place.

"Very interesting set up, John. You can come out now."

Smuggler grinned, and did just that. The two men exchanged a hearty embrace, which resembled a double bear hug if you were a casual observer.

"Velikovsky..." Smuggler said.

"John." The man said with a humongously toothy smile.

They both had real names, but both shared the title of Smuggler, in their countries, at least. Having once belonged to an international ring of weapons dealers, they now carried on the legacy of their leaders by assuming the identities of Smuggler.

"Velik, what brings you out here when there's Martial law on the streets, man?"

"Well," Velikovsky said, "You informed me just a few days ago that your friend was friend Schick was being held captive, and wanted some information. I understand that the Oracle information center attempted to supply you?"

Smuggler frowned, "You're way behind Velik, I've already found out who they are with the help of Paul and Lebedev." He looked over to his table, which carried a small coffee machine, "You'll need a drink to process this, sit down."

Velik smiled again, but with less vigor. He merely shrugged and strode over to the table, where he then took a seat as the Smuggler made some C Ration coffee.

"Turns out that they're a bunch of clowns called MJ-12."

"Majestic Twelve." Velik said non rhetorically, "Then I WAS right."

"How did you find out!" Smuggler exclaimed.

Another scary smile from Velikovsky, "The Omar."

The Smuggler sighed, probably in agitation towards the early cybernetic peoples for stealing his thunder. He was about to finish up making the drinks when the door was knocked once again. Both men grabbed their guns, The Smuggler his assault gun, and Velik a buckshot rifle. They stood on both sides of the door, and Smuggler creaked it open, wondering how many people knew secret routes into his hideout. JC Denton walked in, followed closely by Sandra Renton. She looked at both of them with an air of annoyance.

"Jeez, what's with the guns?" She said, backing up slightly.

"Precautions." Both of the Smugglers said at the same time.

* * *

JC frowned slightly as the two men led him back into the Smugglers lair. Apparently, both of them were Smuggler.

"But how can he be Smuggler and you be-" Sandra was saying.

"Are you gonna buy anything, or-" Smuggler(The one JC knew) said.

"We're here for your help." JC said.

"It'll still cost you." The old black man said firmly. He sat down, and toggled the secret storage wall. It slid back, showing a host of high grade military weaponry along with price tags. JC sighed, and shook his head. After some akward silence, the Smuggler said, "Why'd you come back to New York, anyway? UNATCO's out looking for you."

"This wouldn't happen to be JC Denton, the international terrorist, would he?"The Russian Smuggler said.

"Yeah, he is. Last time we met he was with UNATCO. Paul said that's not the case anymore."

"Good," The russian grunted, "I approve."

"I have to take care of something. It's real important." JC said, although he could tell it wasn't going to faze the Smuggler.

"This oughta be good. What is it?"

"Tracer Tong has located a superfrieghtor that's docked here at the Navel Shipyards. It's stocked with enough Gray Death virus to infect an entire continent. "

Sandra seemed a bit pretubred from this, "Wait, Gray Death?"

"MJ-12 created the virus. To control the population."

"Holy crap..." She whispered.

The two Smugglers shared a few whispers during this. Then, the New York Smuggler said, "It's the government, isn't it. Part of some experiment?"

JC was dully reminded of Smugglers rampant conspiracy addiction. "Conspirators. Some in, some out."

"Ok...so what do you want me to do about it?"

"Help me scuttle it. I need some explosives, LAMs, a LAW, anything."

"You're not gonna do anything to something that big without some strategizing first."

"I already have, trust me."

Smuggler frowned, and went over to a small box nearby. He called over to whom he called Velik, and the Russian went over to help him lift it. They carried it over, and took out the supplies. A few grenades, and two rockets. The price tags remained.

JC felt infuriated with their behaviour. How could they take such things so candidly! "Gimmie a break! Hundreds of millions of lives are at stake!"

"You guys are so completely heartless..." Sandra said, now appalled.

The Smugglers seemed almost mortified. The Russian even laughed, but only a little, "I like what you're doing, "Smuggler said, "But I've got to cover my costs."

JC grumbled, and took out his credit carrying chit. He put in the appropriate sum, and handed the chit over to the Smuggler. He put the money into his own account, and handed the empty chit back to JC. JC took all of the LAMs.

He was turning to leave, still angry at them when the Smuggler called out, "What you're about to do will turn some heads. What if they come after ME?"

"I'd like to see them try." The Russian laughed.

JC turned back, "Actually, UNATCO's getting ready to do a raid around the neighborhood. A manhunt. For me."

The two of them frowned. The Smuggler looked around his lair for a long time, "I'd better pack up, then." He said, "Can't take any chances."

"I'll help." Velik said.

"Hey, Smuggler?" JC said.

"Yeah?" The man asked.

"...Thanks."

* * *

Upon going back up through the elevator, JC frowned, seeing that all the lights were down in the chamber. Dark, except for two pairs of green slits in the darkness. JC lunged forward, and seized the MJ-12 troop by the neck, spurring a gasp from the other one. JC bashed the soldiers head against the wall, and suddenly felt a very hot pain in his side, but no gunshot noise. A silenced machine gun. He rolled to the side, and kicked the other one in the stomach. JC heard Sandra nervously say, "Freeze" to the other one in the background. JC tore the soldiers helmet off, and tossed it away. The man made a pathetic whimpering noise, and JC placed his hands to either side of the soldiers neck. With one fluid move of his wrists, he snapped the mans neck. After that, he turned on the lights, and saw Sandra holding the other soldier at gunpoint. JC moved forward, and took the mans neck in his hands.

"What are they planning!" JC barked.

"A-a search and destroy. They wanted to c-corner you in there. We were supposed to kill y-y-you!" The trooper gasped.

At that moment, JC recieved an Infolink transmission.

"There is no escape...Denton..." A familiar German voice said. It cut off.

JC frowned, and punched the guy out. After healing himself, he opened the door, and led Sandra back up to the street. JC kneeled forward, and mentally contacted Jock on his radio frequency.

"Jock, you there?"

"There you are. All finished?"

"Yup. Hurry up, MJ-12's gonna be here in a few minutes."

"I see two helicopters coming your way...from the north. They're well ahead of me." Jock said. He sounded almost horrified. JC frowned, knowing that the odds were truly against him this time.

"I can't believe I didn't see them coming..." Jock continued.

"Anything else, Jock?"

"No. No street presence in sight, although just a few miles away they're mobilizing troops. I can get to you before they do, though. But not the helicopters."

"Shit..." JC said.

"You'll have to hold them off while I get closer. You can do it, JC. You'll make it." Jock said. He cut off.

Sandra stood close by, frowning at the conversation, most of it which she couldn't hear. JC stood back up, and looked into her eyes, "Get out of here. Run as fast as you can, away from this street."

"JC, what the hell's going on?" She exclaimed.

"They're sending in two helicopters, probably armed with chain guns and missle launchers, FILLED with men who want to kill me."

"What about Brian, I thought he worked as your pilot-"

"He's coming, but they're gonna arrive first. It's going to be...really bad for me. Just go."

Anger seemed to flare from her being for a moment as she stood there, but then she simply sighed, and looked down at her gun. She turned and ran. But not before looking back. "Don't die."

JC stayed silent. She rounded the corner. He waited twenty seconds for her to reappear, and when she didn't, he turned back to the street infront of him, coldly annalyzing his surrondings. He was on the same street that held the enterance to the Underworld tavern. A place to hide, but he didn't want to bring the patrons into any danger. The Os' Good place stood at the far end, near the small park where he had helped to defend a cause he didn't even know half of. It was a burnt out husk, offering little cover. Then there was Smugglers lair, but he knew he would only be expediating the time it would take to find the weapons dealer, and his Russian counterpart. The battle would have to stay on the streets.

He took out all of his guns, laying them out side by side, then picked them up seperately, and reloaded them. He loaded HE 20mm shells into the assault rifle, and armor piercing rounds into the magnum. He counted up twenty LAMs, and a useless GEP rocket. His sniper rifle was safely straped across his back.

Now then. Battle scenarios. They would be coming from the north. He turned in that direction, and looked around. As expected, he saw nothing except tall buildings and street. The closest helicopter would probably land or hover at the north end, while the second would glide on over to the south side, and pin him down. A tried strategy, but effective nonetheless. If he moved to another street, they would simply track him and repeat the strategy other there. From Jocks horror about their presence, JC guessed that they were stealth choppers. That meant a lesser amount of troopers, but still a formidable advantage nevertheless. He knew that they were armed with chain guns and missle launchers.

Battle plan formulating in his head, JC ran over to the darkest part of the street, and activated his microfibrial muscle augmentation. He picked up a car, and dragged it over to the place he wanted it. He planned on hiding in the shadows for the duration of the battle. Then, he sprinted across the street, and placed the GEP rocket at the north end. He returned to his position, which lay in the middle of the street. Then, he waited.

It didn't take very long, to JC's mental relief. The stress of waiting would have driven him close to insanity. He heard the thruming of helicopter blades. They seemed low, dulled out. He was right. They were SH-17's. He took out his sniper rifle, and aimed towards the north side of the street, looking at the GEP rocket he'd placed there. He looked over to the tops of the northmost buildings, and saw the two helicopters cruise onto the street. They hovered around the streets for some time, looking around for potential targets. When they say none, they dived away from each other, and landed on the north and south sides of the street. It was going along exactly as JC had predicted.

Hatches hissed open, and MJ-12 troopers ran out, looking calm and coordinating. They shouted out orders to one another, and the two squads from both copters' met in the middle, just twenty feet from JC's position. He counted over twelve MJ-12 troopers, two commandos, and one MIB. He turned his sights back over to the GEP round, conveinantly placed _right_ behind the northern chopper, and fired a round into it. The resulting explosion turned every head over in that direction. The helicopter itself was thrown into the air from the force of the unexpected detonation, tried to stabilize itself mid air, and fell directly into the street on its back. The helicopter blades were forced into an imposible angle, and the helicopter was ripped to pieces. The oil tank went up, and it exploded completely.

Meanwhile, JC instantly turned his sights back over to the troopers, and fired round after round, first taking out the two Commandos, then aimed for the MIB...who was actually a woman. She looked just like her male counterparts, so JC fired anyway. They were as sharp as he remembered. She seized a trooper, and made him take the bullet. She barked out orders to the remaining troopers, and she pointed over to JCs position. JC dropped the rifle, and took out his assault gun, switching to 76x10.mm. He bolted out of the destroyed cars cover, and weaved around the crowd of troopers, firing constantly. He downed four of them, and then rolled to the left, avoiding a hail of bullets with his speed enchancement. He chucked a grenade into the gaggle of troopers, and watched as they scattered in all directions to avoid being killed by the explosion or shrapnel. The detonation took out two of them. Four left.

Now more or less organized, the WIB forced them onto the defensive. They took up classic british battle stance, and fired at him with their assault weapons. He activated ballistic shielding, and felt pinpricks as the bullet casings fell away from his super enhanced skin. He felt his bio energy run dry, and rolled to the side, downing a bio electric pill, which would reset the flow of nanites. He then cloaked himself in the darkness, trying out this augmentation for the first time. He crawled several feet, and waited for the bullets to stop. They did, ten seconds later. The helicopter pilots in the southern chopper were still trying to work out what had happened.

"ADVANCE!" The WIB cried.

The four troopers ran over to JCs position, and looked around. They were equiped with night vision visors, so they couldn't see him. They played flashlights all around the area.

"We can't find him!" One of them called.

JC walked calmly over to the WIB, and whipped out his crowbar. He then seized her from behind, and struck her in the face with it. He deactivated cloak, and ran back as she cried out in pain and exploded where she stood. JC took out his assault gun, and fired an HE shell at the troopers. Four bodies flew through the night, and smacked into the ground.

The remaining helicopter decided that enough was enough, and rose from the ground, turning its chain gun towards JC. He waited for it to activated, and ran to the right as hundreds of rounds tore up the ground behind him. He turned, assault rifle in hand, and fired another shell. It slammed into the side of the chopper. The helicopter burst into flames without ceremony.

* * *

Far away, in the Parisian facility, Page shook his head solemnly in the operations room as the second SH-17 winked off the monitor. In less than ten minutes, JC had destroyed two one hundred thousand credit stealth choppers, killed twelve special operations grunts, two mech aug Commandos, and a series P agent. He had been _certain_ that he wouldn't survive such an assault, but he proved him wrong _again._

Page did not like being wrong, and he displayed this by slamming his hand down hard of the monitor, ignoring the scrapes it gave him. The tech officers around him jumped in their seats nervously. But they kept their mouths shut. They knew better than to infuriate Bob Page.

He left the room without a word, and returned up to his office. He logged onto the Icarus tracking program, and observed. It not only battled constantly with Daedalus, the bothersome AI that wanted them all dead, but it served its masters without doubt. Exactly as it was programed to do. It would go online soon. He used Icarus' communications grid, and contacted Agent Hela, who was stationed in Hong Kong at the time.

"Yes, Mister Page?" She said at once.

"Mari, I'm feeling a little mad right now and feel like taking it on someone else. Would you be a good girl and destroy the VersaLife facility nearby?"

* * *

JC stood there in the streets, breathing heavily. He kneeled over, and lay there in wait for Jock. Someone tapped him on the shoulder, and he instantly had his assault gun to his or her face in an instant.

"Whoa, there." Sandra said.

"I thought I told you to buzz off." JC spat.

"I wasn't about to let you die like that."

"What are you talking about?" He said, looking up. "I murdered them all on my own." He said sadly.

A man came up behind her, smiling. He looked like an everyday thug. "This here's Manny. He's an expert mechanic...We knew each other back in High school."

JC looked at the man questionably. He looked rather proud of himself over something.

"I came and got him, and brought him back over to the street, and there was a helicopter blocking it off already. He broke into the...ah..."

"Fuelsulage." Manny said patiently.

"Yeah, and then he fixed it so it wouldn't take off for awhile."

That was why it hadn't taken off so early...JC thought. They bought JC enough time to take care of all the troopers.

"Sandra...thank you." JC said.

Jocks helicopter flew overhead, and landed nearby on the street, carefully avoiding all the wreckage. "I want to go with you." Sandra said.

JC rolled his eyes, and watched Manny leave silently without any goodbyes. "Sandra, you really shouldn't."

"JC...this may sound _so_ corny, and lame, but here goes...This is the only time in my life...where I've felt like I could be doing something useful. I mean, every day before you took care of Jojo I was...this object for him and his gang. They made me feel like dirt. And of course my behaviour towards Dad wasn't helping. Please, JC."

JC thought it over for a moment. He knew he would feel horrible if he didn't allow her to come. She would probably eventually succumb to the Gray Death, or starvation without her father around anymore. He sighed, not liking the situation he was in at all, "Fine. Get in."

She hugged JC, for the second time that week, "Thank you, JC."

She hurried on into the stealth chopper. JC went back for his sniper rifle, and followed her in shortly thereafter.

* * *

"Sir, your helicopter is ready."

Walton Simons looked up from the cigarette he'd been smoking in the lobby of JFK airport, and stared up at the young attendant who had delivered him the information. She yelped pathetically, but quietly.

"Thank you." Walton said. He tossed the cig, and followed her out to the helipad terminal nearby.

"I think it's very admirable that you volunteered to help the helicopter crews with the spraying of the pesticide." The attendant said, her bubbly nature returning.

"I am, by nature, a man of action." Walton said absently.

The woman simply smiled, and opened the doors for him.

"I heard you took interim authority of UNATCO, too."

"You certainly keep up with the news, huh."

"I do indeed, Mr. Simons!"

Walton rolled his eyes when she wasn't looking, and continued on towards the chopper.

"I'll take it from here, young lady. Thank you."

Walton stepped into the helicopter, and promptly lit another cigarette.

"Uh, sir?" The pilot, one Lieutenant Jake Watson, said.

"What?" Simons sighed.

"...Nevermind."

"Good."

"We'll be ready to lift off in ten minutes, sir. Shouldn't take more than a half hour to reach the shipyards. "

Excellent. Things were about to go full circle.

* * *

JC, Decker, and Miguel jumped from Jocks helicopter, and out into the small abanonded car lot. A small grate served as the doorway into the shipyards, where JC could already hear monsterous machinery at work. Jock gave them all a thumbs up, and pulled the chopper away.

JC turned back the to rest of his...team. "Ok, using Deckers computer, I've printed out some more blueprints of the ship." He took out two more copies, and handed them to the two NSF members, "According to Jock, Smuggler says that there's a weapons depot near the shipyards. It's filled with enough C4 explosive to destroy the weldpoints completely. I'll be going there."

JC was nearly surprised by how easily the orders came to him, and just how easily transmitted they were. He'd never counted himself as a man of leadership. He continued, "Jock's about to do a recon of the area. Just wait a sec..."

Sandra Renton's voice came on the line a few seconds later, "Jock's making me give you guys the information on the security. I guess he wants to concentrate on flying."

"You're a big help, Sandra. Now what is it?" JC said impatiently, but silently reprimanded himself for being so harsh.

"There are two big military bot's going around the main enterance to the facility. Doesn't take a genius to know it'll be suicide to go there, Gods knows how many people I saw get killed by those things during the rioting. Anyway, there's also a whole bunch of US soldiers running around out there. There's probably an old sewer vent somewhere on the base campus that you can use to get closer to the freightor and simutaneously avoid the security. That's it."

"Thanks Sandra." JC said. The line went down. He turned the others, again, "I want you guys to get into the Submarine pen first, and secure the area. Then wait for me to return with the explosives. I'll contact you once I have them, and you'll explain to me the safest entry so we can rendevous. Ready?"

"Yeah." Miguel said, putting his small MP7 machine gun to his chest.

"Yes..." Decker said disspiaringly.

Decker turned, and led the way. They both went through the vent, and dissapeared. JC breathed in, and approached the man sized wire gate at the end of the car lot. He tried opening it. It didn't budge. He kicked it open instead, grabbing it hastily before it hit the ground. He laid it out gently, and walked out into the street, looking at all the abandoned buildings around him. All of it had been cleared out the day martial law had been declared, but he could see the lights of burning barrels dotting the landscape, with homeless people huddled around them. JC looked to his right, and saw, just a few hundred feet away, the shipyard armoury. It was a small building surronded by steel fences, and two Bravo 3's. There was also a tiny barracks nearby.

_Those bots just ruin any kind of plan of approach..._JC frowned. He had some LAMs, sure, but those things were able to detect targets from over one hundred yards away. He looked back over to the bums, and walked over there casually. They stared over at him impassively, but more than a little curious about his rather expensive attire. He arrived at the barrel. Two of the bums were engaged in a long conversation about politics, and the others offered him sweet smiles, and offers for company. JC politely declined, and asked if any of them knew the best way of infiltrating the armoury, just as politely. They all looked over to a pair of people on the other side of the street.

"He steals guns from that place regularly, if you want to know, ask him." A lady said. She looked JC up and down, "You with the NSF?"

"I suppose so. I guess you can say that I'm with the people."

"Fair enough. Anyway, he's a weapons dealer."

"Thanks."

The woman tapped her friend on the shoulder, and JC heard them talking about expecting to hear explosions later in the evening. JC came up to the dealer, and tapped him.

"Yeah, what you want?" The man said.

"People around here are saying that you know how to inflitrate the armoury of the shipyards, just down there."

He looked JC up and down, much like the female bum had, "Shit, you a cop?"

"I'm with the NSF."

"Well, I'm not just about to let you in on one of my biggest secrets without some sorta catch."

"Yeah!" His partner said.

"SHUT UP!" The dealer screamed. The man shrunk back like an abused puppy. The dealer turned back to JC, scratching his head in thought. Finally, he came to a conclusion, "You see the building right there?" He pointed.

JC turned, and saw a medium sized building just across from them, facing away from the shipyards. "Yeah."

"There's this gang in there, and they're sorta like me, you dig? Sell guns and shit like I do. Only thing is, I sell much more premium products, and they only sell small time stuff, like pop guns and pistols, stuff like that. For higher prices too! I'd get so many more customers if something happened to those guys..."

'So you want me to go in there and kill them all?"

"Eh...something like-...Yeah."

"Deal." JC said. The dealer smiled, "Lemme give you the key." He fished around in his pocket, and produced a small key, handing it to JC. "I'll be back soon." JC said.

JC walked past the dealer and his partner, and crossed the small square towards the building. Two thugs with pistols stood close by.

"Whad'ya want, punk?"

"I came to met your boss. I've got an apointment with him concerning his latest assault gun shipment."

"We don't ship or recieve guns..." He turned to the other one, "Do we?"

"I dunno."

He turned back to JC, "Well, uh, you better go in, then."

"Thanks." JC said, and walked straight on into the building. Several thugs laid around, watching TV, fighting, or just general slouching. JC asked for directions to the leaders room, and was told to go up two floors. He went up the second floor, carefully avoiding all detrimental looking steps, and looked around the floor he was on. It was a target range, with several occupants. JC went up another flight, and found a large deteriorating door, flanked by two more thugs. They carried assault guns.

"I'm here to see the Boss. Regarding his assault gun shipment."

Another exchange of dumb looks and statements, and they let him in. The boss was exactly as JC had envisioned, just a man in a punk outfit with a whore to his side. He seemed angry with JCs presence.

"Can't ya see I'm busy, fool? I'll be with ya in a sec."

"You won't get the chance." JC said. He took out his magnum, and shot him in the head. His body fell back with a sickening thud. The whore seemed only mildly displeased. JC kicked the door open, and was rewarded with the sight of seeing that it caused both guards to roll down the stairs. He aimed his gun, and fired twice in quick succession, killing them both. There were shouts from downstairs. JC crouched, and waited for them. Three of them came up, their guns held upward. The leftmost one dived back around the corner, while JC fired twice again, killing them. He rounded the corner, and kicked the other one in the chest, knocking down a few more steps. The stair the thug landed on creaked, and gave way, dropping him. JC vaulted over the steps, and landed down in onto the second floor. The target range was empty. JC armed a LAM, and tossed it down the stairs. It bounced off the corner, and landed in the first floor lobby. Multiple screams and curses, then an explosion.

He continued on down, and dived out into the lobby, his magnum still outstretched. He shot two thugs, and counted four more. He activated his speed augmentation, and ran over behind two of them before they could react. He took out the Dragons Tooth, and slashed both of them just as fast. The other two screamed in terror over their adversary, and made for the door. JC dashed over to them, and stabbed the first one. He then lunged forward, and slashed the second in the chest.

He counted twelve dead in all, more than enough to stem the flow of their business. He sighed, and shook his head solemnly, nearly appalled by his motivations for killing them all.

When he returned to the dealer, he gave him the "good" news. The thug laughed out loud, pumped his fist into the air, and shook JC's hand.

"Now I can make a profit! Thanks so much, man. You do this for a living, or something?"

"I AM with the NSF..."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. Anyway, you see that building right ahead of us? There's an old secret passage in there that leads straight to the armoury. You can avoid all of the security that way. I use it all the time."

"What's it for?"

"How should I know? I guess they used it back during the Cold War. You activate it by placing your hand firmly on the apple in the painting in the foyer."

"Hmm...Thanks."

"No, thank YOU, my man."

JC walked into the building he'd mentioned, and looked around the lobby. A large painting of a fruit basket hung on the left wall. JC put his hand on the apple, and stepped back. The painting swung backwards, revealing a man sized, dank tunnel.

Without a second thought, JC crossed the threshold, and began to walk down the dark winding corridor.

* * *

At the same time, Decker hissed for Miguel to come closer. They were outside the main complex of the submarine pen, and they had managed to sneak through without being seen. It had been a very gut wrenching process for Decker, but Miguel had seemed eager to fight.

"What is it?" Miguel asked.

"Found a manhole cover, help me lift it."

It was a small pre-millenial covering that acted as a door to the sewers, which were just as neglected now. Together, they pulled it off. Decker jumped in, and looked around. He was in a small creak of filth, but that didn't matter much to him at the time. He saw a long, straight corridor that ended with a bigger room. That room had a large black gate inside. Miguel jumped down next, and they went down the tunnel, eventually coming out into said room.

"What a work out..." Miguel said, looking back at the tunnel.

"Damnit."

"What's wrong?"

There was a series of laser trip wires surronding the grate, their only way out.

"Ah, nothing a multitool can't fix!" Miguel said dissmisively.

"Look..."

The nearby panel was also protected.

"I can get past it!" Miguel said. Without another word, he took out a multitool, and crouched under a laser, ignoring Deckers protests. He continued on, avoiding lasers until he reached the panel. He then used the tool' on it. The lasers dissapeared. Decker frowned, and turned away from Miguels smug smile.

"I stand corrected."

"Yup. Now let's go."

They continued on through the gate, and came across a large lader. Going up, and through another manhole, Decker looked around, seeing nothing but a huge wall of steel. Confused, he waited for Miguel to come up, and they looked at it together.

"Where are we?" Miguel said.

Something seemed funny about it, Decker thought. It looked almost like-

He looked up, and saw a smoke stack, rising from the top of the steel wall.

"We're outside the superfreighter."

* * *

Aurthors Note: Sorry for the relative lack of updates. I recently got the Expansion Pack for Doom 3, and it's been monopilizing most of my time. PLEASE review after you're done reading, I haven't been getting any for some time now... 


	24. The PCRS Wallcloud

_**Deus Ex: The Conspiracy**_

Chapter Twenty Four: The PCRS Wallcloud

As soon as he said it, Decker instanty crouched behind some barrels. Miguel did the same, across from him.

"JC, this is Decker, can you hear me?" Decker said into his small portable radio.

"Yeah, what is it?"

"We've found a stealthy enterance outside the freighter."

"Good. What do I have to do to get there?"

"The gate guards won't trouble you. They believed us when we said we were with you. From there, keep on going left, avoiding the security. We managed to disable a host of laser trip wires in that area, so you won't have much trouble. Keep on hugging the building until you see a manhole cover. Go in. You'll find a black gate at the end of the tunnel, from there is a ladder. Use that to reach us."

"Thanks. I've gathered up a bunch of C4 explosives. Managed to find a way inside without alerting the security. Don't ask."

Decker smiled, "I wouldn't wanna hear it anyway."

"Can you guys take care of the immediate security?"

"Uhh..." He peaked out from behind the barrels, and saw a hosting of Majestic Twelve troopers guarding the catwalks surronding the super freighter. "JC, these aren't just US military. I see a bunch of MJ-12 soldiers, too."

"Damn...but it makes sense. Just do your best. Try to get them without them noticing what's going on. I'm on my way there now, over and out."

"Did you hear all that?" Decker said, turning to Miguel.

"Yeah. Do we have any silenced weapons?"

"A sniper rifle..." Decker said. "Not as good as the one I used to have, though. I got this from Tracers lab."

"Good enough."

"You want to do it?" Decker asked.

"Pfft, I can't aim for my life. That's why I took an assault shotgun."

Deckers aim was always near perfect. Damnit.

"I sorta get...you know, sqeamish."

"Huh?"

"Killing people."

"Don't worry about it, these guys, they're...well, the badguys, you know? Getting rid of them would make all of us safer."

"Yeah, yeah." Decker said. He was just glad he hadn't been rediculed. He holstered his pistol, and went out onto the dock, being careful to conceal himself as much as possible. He held the rifle aft, and put his eye to the scope. Two troopers, smoking by the plank. He noted a small keypad nearby, presumably for raising or lowering the plank. He moved the rifle around, and spotted at least four more troopers, most of them patroling. All located along the lower dock. There was a catwalk above all of it, looking down on the freighter. A lone Commando stood there. Taking a deep breath, he aimed for the insect like helmet, and held it there right between his eyes. He fired, barely hearing anything. The commandos head blossomed into a mist of red and...purple substances. He dropped, thankfully on the catwalk.

Moving the barrel down, he observed the rest of the troopers again. Nothing changed. He aimed for the furthest trooper, and toggled the scope to 5x sight. He could see the relaxed expression on his face, partly hidden by a blood red visor. He fired again. The trooper dropped silently, his head non existant. Someone nearby noticed. It was a female trooper. She ran over to the body, and recoiled after seeing what had happened. Her head was turned toward the body, only revealing the helmeted part. It made for an inadequete shot. He relocated the aim toward her waist, and fired. She was flung backward like a puppet that had been cut off from its strings. The two smoking guards turned for some reason. Perhaps she had screamed when she died. Decker fired off two shots in quick succession. They both fell. He could see no other troopers, and his eyes were blurring. All perfect hits. One shot kills. He felt horrible. He swallowed bile, and turned back to his fellow NSF member.

"All clear." He said, trying his best not to let his anguish show. He failed horribly. Miguel frowned slightly, but made of a show of ignoring it.

"Yeah, ok." He said. He got up, and began to run down the deck. Decker wiped his face twice, and put the sniper rifle back across his back. He walked forward on the deck, heading over to where Miguel was. He was staring up at the plank, and scratching his chin. He then hunched over the small keypad, and punched in two random codes. The plank failed to raise. He cursed loudly.

When Decker got within forty feet, he heard a noise from behind. A door opened, one that he hadn't spotted before.

Two mechanics walked out. One of them bumped into the body of one of the dead troopers, the cigarette still clutched in his hand. He screamed. Very loud. Miguel jumped three feet in the air, and turned around, brandishing his gun. The mechanics both screamed in unison, and ran back into the building. Decker ran after them, taking out his pistol. He found them both running down a hall.

"Hey! Stop it, we're not gonna-"

An MJ-12 soldier hailed them further down. Decker raised the pistol, perhaps too quickly, and shot off two rounds. The MJ-12 soldier looked surprised as a slug hit his chest. The other one met its mark in the waist of one of the mechanics. The soldier grimaced in pain, and fell to the floor, moaning in pain. The mechanic resumed screaming, though this time in pain. The other one continued unabated down the hall. Decker reached them both, and put a shot into the soldiers skull without thinking twice. There was some more shooting outside. He turned from the mechanic, and ran back outside.

Miguel was behind a metal crate, and holding his hands over his head as bullets whizzed around him. When they stopped, he crouched back up instantly, and fired off a few shells. Two screams were heard, followed by thuds. Decker rounded the corner, and found three MJ-12 soldiers all crouched around crates and barrels. He ran back around the wall, narrowly avoiding a hail of bullets. Miguel rose again, and fired off some more shots while they were distracted. The soldiers, however many left, resumed firing on the shotgun wielding NSF member. Decker rounded the corner again, and caught two more of them. He fired two rounds, and killed one of them. The other whimpered pathetically, tossing his rifle away, holding his hands over his head. That suited Decker just fine.

Miguel advanced on him, while Decker ran back over to the mechanic he'd left. He found him laying in a pool of blood. His eyes were lifeless. All because of a dumb, idiotic missfire. Decker hung his head, and cursed himself. He held his hand out onto the wall, and cried silently.

* * *

Agent Jenkins sighed unhappily in his office inside the Wallcloud. He was waiting on further orders from Simons, but the man hadn't responded yet. He was usually a man of quick action, but Jenkins found his skills as of the moment, severely lacking. Executive control of the Sumbarine Pen did no good for him in the long term. He was an Agent, mostly, but most WERE given administrative occupations when the time came. He toggled the nearby flat screener, and watched boredly as the news hounds continued to depict "unbelievablely graphic" videos of the VersaLife facility rupturing in the middle of the day.

A clear as crystal day in Hong Kong, ruined by Agent Mari Hela. It showed the regular business district, and the tall transullecent building in the background. Ten seconds later, the camera shuddered momentarilly, and the bottom level of the building exploded in a dark plume of flame. The building shook momentarilly, but stood strong against the impact. Forty seven people in the VersaLife facility were accounted for as being dead. Of course, the _real_ number, which constituted the loss of all of the personal in the basement laboratories, was much, much higher.

Page gave the order himself, and Hela had gone out to the facility without question, and C4ed every room in the laboratories. Needless to say, it had been quite a show when it happened. Luckily, the building itself withstood the attack, pan the reception office and lobby. They would be able to use it, once again.

Andrew Donavon HAD been killed, of course, in the attack, however. Jenkins wasn't sure how to feel about this. He was the man who had carried out the research of the Series P biomodification project, meaning that he was sort of like a father figure to all Agents. Maybe that was what was really bothering him...

He sighed, and turned on his computer, intending to play a little minesweeper when a guard came in.

"Sir!"

"Yes?" He asked, frowning.

"We've detected intruders outside the superfreighter. They've killed off all the immediate outside personal."

This certainly wasn't expected.

He was at a loss of words for a moment, and then said, "Uh, well, lock down the ship! Send out snipers to the deal with it."

"Aye, sir." The guard said. He ran out as quickly as he had come in. Everyone was really on edge, what with the coup detat' only several hours away. He went into his office safe, and took out a sleek Desert Eagle handgun.

Whatever the intruders wanted, they weren't gonna get it with him around.

* * *

JC removed the manhole covering, and hoisted himself up the ladder. He looked around the docks, seeing several bodies here and there. Obviously the area was secure now. He looked up to the deck of the PCRS Wallcloud, and saw a distinctly human shape there. More than one. He took out his sniper rifle, and looked through the sight, seeing Chinese soldiers carrying sniper rifles. He fired when he realized this. The one he fired on dropped dead immediately. The others looked around nervously when that happened. JC merely switched the aim towards them, one by one, firing each time. They all dropped in no time.

This task done, JC continued out onto the dock, and saw Miguel standing near what looked to be a retractable plank. JC shouted over to him, which spurred him to jump where he stood, while looking over to him. When he realized who he was looking at, he calmed down, and shook his head. JC sprinted over to him, and examined what he was doing. The NSF member was hunched over a keypad. Probably for the plank controls.

"Any idea what the code is?"

JC frowned, "No."

"Damn."

"I guess I'll have to keep guessing..."

JC looked out onto the water, "Have you ever been on one of these before?"

"A freighter? Well, yeah. It was a bombing job for the NSF."

"How did you sneak on?"

"Oh, well, the same way they'd get supplies. There's this little ramp at the end of the ship, you can reach it from the...JC?"

JC dived into the water, and started to make his way towards the end of the ship. The water was cold and almost..._rancid_, but JC went on nonetheless. He heard Miguel call out from back on the docks, saying that he'd find Decker.

Two minutes passed as he swam, his fatigue never running short. The super freighter was annoyingly long. When he reached the end of the ship, he took a look around. A small ramp lay across from him. He swam over to it, and hauled himself up there. He sighed, took a moment to catch his breath, and continued the rest of the way up. His field of view was instantly taken up by a large series of crates and general supplies. No crew members in sight, other than a body of one of the snipers he'd killed. He ran over to the other side of the ship, and looked down over the railing. Decker and Miguel were both standing on the deck, looking off into the water. JC made his way over to the ramp, and pressed a button nearby. The ramp lowered immediately. The two NSF members looked up, and then made their way up themselves.

"Genius, JC." Miguel beamed.

"It was common sense, really."

"Yeah, whatever." The man smiled.

Decker remained silent.

JC turned over to the nearby bulkhead, the only seeable entrance, and waved his fingers twice, indicating for them to follow. Tracer Tong came on the line at this point.

"You'll find all the places you need to destroy below deck. I believe the door is located down the stairs on your immediate left. Watch out for crew members, though."

JC creaked the door open, and poked his head inside. Two sailors with their backs turned were talking elatedly near the end of the hall. No one else in sight.

The three rebels crawled in single file through the doors, and went over to the left most corridor, which was a stairwell. JC held up a finger, indicating for them to go downstairs and hide, while he went elsewhere. He intended to search the medical area for a cure for Dowds sickness.

Going back into the main hall, and through a connecting door, he entered a small room with a medbot inside, as well as a Red Cross emblem emblazoned on the ceiling. The thing he came looking for was surprisingly easy to find, as well. He took the small vial of Ambrosia from the microscope on the table, and headed back outside, and down the stairs.

_This has been pretty easy so far..._JC thought. Indeed, the ships security itself wasn't much to speak of, though he doubted the same for the below decks area. He continued on down the stairs, and saw Decker and Miguel behind the stairs, shrouded in darkness.

"Problem, JC." Miguel said quietly.

"Hm?"

"That door leads into the lower decks, like you said, but it's locked. I think they were expecting us."

Damn. He _knew_ it wasn't going to be _that_ easy. "Ok, take the C4 explosives. I brought ten, I know there are four weldpoints, but I figured we'd need them on extra missions. Set the timer for ten seconds, and plant it on the door. We have no time to go key hunting."

"The whole ship will know!" Decker exclaimed, talking for the first time in several minutes.

"We don't have time." Was all JC said.

Miguel nodded grimly, and began to plant the bomb.

JC ran up the staircase, and brought out his box of weapon mods. He opened it, ignoring the putrid smell that wafted from it, and examined the contents. A silencer, two lasers, and several recoils. He attached the silencer to his assault rifle, put the laser on the Magnum and the sniper rifle. He then put the recoils on his two rifles, the assault and sniper.

"I'm good." He said, looking back over. He took out his assault gun, and laid it flat on the steel floor to further minimize the recoil. He laid himself down with it, to ensure pinpoint accuracy. Decker came up behind him, and unholstered his VMP-70 pistol. He seemed to be mumbling to himself.

"Okay, I'm ready to key the detonator." Miguel said.

"Do it."

"Uh, JC?"

He rolled his eyes, annoyed with all the distractions. "What?"

"Did you look up the power on this thing?"

"Er, no." He wasn't exactly a demolitions expert. His fortee's were pistols, lockpicking, and atheletics.

"It's rather potent."

"What does that mean?"

"It means that it can blow the entire top section of the ship off."

"You know, that's actually not a bad idea." JC said thoughtfully. It would certainly save them the trouble of-

"JC, I was exagerating, the people down below would be safe. Just give me another C4, and I'll check the potency."

He took out a small brick, and tossed it down to Miguel. The spainard gratefully exchanged the large explosive with the smaller brick.

"Ah, this one is weak. But enough to blow the door off its hinges." He set the charge, and then called back up to JC again. He gladly confirmed the keying. Miguel keyed the detonator, and rushed back upstairs. The three of them sheilded themselves.

Five seconds later, the bomb exploded, engulfing JCs world with noise and bright light, not to mention a healthy dose of white hot heat near his lower body. Then it was other. He turned around, and saw that the bulkhead was just about totaled.

"Great job, Miguel."

Klaxons erupted from the decks above them, as a PA system announced where the bomb had gone off. The two sailors from before rounded the corner, and stared down the stairs. JC greeted them with a hail of slugs from his assault rifle. They both fell.

"Let's move!"

The three of them rushed down the stairs, rounded a hall, and went down another set of stairs. They came into a large hall that branched off into other sections. A large group of Chinese militants stood in wait. JC yelped involuntarily, and vaulted over the railing and down into the hall. Miguel unloaded a few rounds of his assault shotgun into the crowd, while Decker took cover behind the corner of the hall from which the three rebels had came.

JC activated his speed augmentation, and dashed forward, double tapping several of the crew members, and taking cover behind a crate. He tossed a few bricks of C4 up to the two rebels, and called out, "Set the charges when you're done with these guys, I'm gonna reverse the bilge pump flowout!"

"Right!" Miguel called out from behind a crate. JC took another peak out, and saw that most of the crewmembers, sans the ones who were lying on the floor, took cover at the further end of the hall. JC ran down the hall in the opposite direction of the battle, and rounded a corner. Another long hallway. Two MJ-12 troopers were running down it towards him. They both recoiled, took a split section to process who he was, and ran backwards, taking out assault rifles.

"It's Denton!"

JC activated his ballistic protection aug, and ran freely down the hall, wincing slightly as the slugs impacted his chest. The troopers paniced at the sight of him coming closer, and perhaps by the fact that he hadn't died when taking several rounds to the chest. JC unloaded a clip into the nearest trooper, first stunning him, then tossing his lifeless body away, still jerking by the bullets entering it. The other one turned full tail and sprinted for the bulkhead at the end of the corridor. JC dropped his assault gun, took out his Magnum, and fired a shot into him. He fell forward after the round hit him in the spinal cord.

JC sighed heavily, and picked the assault gun back up, stopping only to reload it. He ran down the corridor at full tilt, burst through the bulkhead, and winced in pain after knocking his knees against the bottom. Only now he remembered these doors nicknames: Knee knockers. He took a look around the room he was in. A highly industrial room with heavy machinery decked out around it. Electricity was playing across several such devices like lightning bolts. A mechanic stood nearby, nervously biting his nails. The noise was tremendous, which suggested that he couldn't have heard the battle that took place outside. He tapped the guy on the shoulder, which only rewarded him with an agitated look from the mechanic.

"Look, I'm trying to- Oh.You're not from the control room, are you?"

"No. What ARE you trying to do?" JC asked.

"Er, fix this capacitor!"

"Looked like you were standing around doing nothin' to me."

"Well I can't do much without the spiders I sent in there!"

"Omega-5's?" JC asked. The smaller type of spider bot, which were generally used in maintenance situations.

"Yeah, whatever you call them, they won't come out of the shaft. "

"Where's this control room that you talked about?"

The mechanic pointed up to a catwalk that was held suspended above the room. Electricity ran through it quite visibly, "Up there, their computers are fried, but I'm not paid enough to go down there."

"The only way?"

"You heard me, buddy." The mechanic sighed.

"I'll fix it for you." JC said. With that, he unhinged the grating that seperated them from the maintenance shaft.

"HEY! Get back up here, you're not authorized!"

JC ignored the man, and went in. It was a small cramped shaft that forced JC to crawl on all fours. He headed toward the corner.

"Fine, but don't sue me if you get fried!"

He rounded the corner, and saw the first spider bot. It was crackling with electricity, and it's distinctly eriee eyes were turning completely different colors from the normal red. It was evident that it was malfunctioning. JC held still while the bot' stared at him, seeming confused. It looked both ways with mechanical laziness, and suddenly lunged at the former UNATCO agent. It clamped itself firmly onto JCs head, and brought it's electrostat gun to bear, making horrendous buzzing noises. JC growled loudly, and stumbled for a moment, trying to rip the robot off of him. He failed, and blood began to draw from the places where it's legs were holding onto. He activated his microfibrial muscle aug, and effortlessly plucked the whirring bot' off his head. It hummed pathetically, and JC flung it into the wall across from him. A small explosion ripped across its back, and it ceased to function.

JC sighed, and continued on his way, ignoring the inquiries about his well-being from the mechanic. He found a small control panel nearby, and decided that it couldn't hurt to put it online. He used a multi-tool on it, and, looking back up, saw that the electricity current had slowed down dramatically.

"There's one more!" The mechanic called.

JC grunted, and went on past the panel, rounding another corner while begining to feel woozy in the legs. He activated his speed aug, and they began to feel much better with the energy rush. He speeded on down the shaft, and rolled to the side to avoid being lunged at by the other spider bot'. It carrened wildly into the wall, and ploped to the ground with an almost comical thud. It looked around quizically, and turned back to JC, who had taken the Dragons Tooth sword out. It didn't register the danger it was facing. It hunched back for another leap, and was promptly cut in half. JC went on, and came to the final control panel. He tooled it, and heard the electricity fail to crackle again. He sighed in relief, and went on back the way he came.

Coming out of the shaft, the mechanic stared at him in awe.

"Er, good...yeah, job!"

"I'll be going up to the control room now." JC sighed. "If you don't mind me for asking, are the bilge pump controls up there?"

"Yeah, usually the process is automated, but FEMA insisted on bringing in people to control the ship..." He processed the dialouge that had just transpired, and frowned, "Hey, you're not planning-"

JC took out his magnum, and placed the barrel firmly into his forehead, "You oughta leave the ship now, methinks."

"Yup! Bye!" The mechanic said, and ran in the opposite direction. JC laughed hollowly, and took mentally contacted the radio frequency for Deckers radio. "Decker?"

"Here, JC. We...got rid of them all."

"I'm near the bilge pump flowout room. I want you to split up four bricks amongst yourselves, and set the timer for ten minutes. If you have a remote arming device, that'll be great."

"Yeah, Miguel has the one you threw to him."

He didn't remember throwing it. He thought he had only tossed the bricks alone. Oh, well, "Oh, yeah. I remember. Anyway once you've assigned yourselves two bricks each, I want you to find the valves, and plant the charges on em'. Contact me when that's done, and I'll also call you when the bilge valve is opened. Good luck."

"Same."

He got back up, and went over to a nearby ladder, using it to get onto the catwalk. He went through the door, headed for the control room, unaware of who was watching in the shadows.

* * *

Vixen groaned to herself when she came to. The bald black man from before stood over her, smiling warmly.

"I didn't know being knocked unconscious was part of the employment process." She said, getting up. She looked around. She was in a finely decorated room with an excellent window view. Looking out, she expected to see the same type of architecture as that in China, but instead saw the generic western type buildings clawing the sky in the distance, along with curving streets and alleys crisscrossing the buildings that littered her view. Seeing the Effiel Tower lit up in the distance, she understood that she was in Paris.

"How-"

"Helicopter!"

She felt stupid at her question. Of course it would have been fast enough, it just seemed that such a short amount of time had gone by, and such a dramatic change of enviornment.

"Where are we?"

"My employers estate. I apologize, but we are forbidden to show you the way to this place ourselves."

"Ugh..." She groaned, feeling her head. It felt like a major party had been going on in there.

"Come, I will take you to Everett."

And so they went, going through various rooms, all decorated in the same fanciful style and taste, and finally reached what resembled both a surveillance room and laboratory. A portly man dressed in equally tasteful clothing looked over to her and smiled congenially, instantly getting up and moving forward to shake her hand. She took it, and he bowed gently, and kissed her gloved hand.

"Christ, do all Parisians do this?" Vixen said.

Toby Atanwe grimaced at the comment, and curtly excused himself. The man smiled at her, and said, "It's mainly just for show, don't worry about it." He laughed at this, and slowly frowned when she didn't as well. "Well, let's discuss why you're here, then."

"Yes, let's."

They both sat down. A maid came in shortly thereafter, and gave them both tea and biscuits, along with a small tray of butter. The man gratefully whipped some on his, and ate it. Vixen didn't feel hungry, but she gladly sipped the tea. She felt parched.

"So, you're Morgan Everett." Vixen said while looking down into the steaming tea.

"Have you heard of me?" He asked.

"I've only ever heard of one Everett."

"Well, yes. I am he. Have you heard of my company?"

"Yes, not too succesful, is it?" She wasn't exactly keen on being polite in her current circumstances.

"Page Industries is a real killer, isn't it?" He sighed. "I suppose you already know of Majestic Twelve."

"I _am_ an agent of theirs, so yes."

"_Was_, to be more precise."

Vixen said nothing.

"I believe we have a mutual interest, Miss..."

"Call me Vixen. And why, Morgan, do we have a mutual interest?"

"Well, I'm sure you've guessed by now that I'm not merely a disgruntled company owner who happens to know too much."

"Yes. You're the leader of the Illuminati."

He was silent for a moment,"...Quite so. And I know of your recent troubles with MJ-12, as well."

"And you want me to work for you in turn." Vixen finished.

"Precisely. We both oppose the entity that wants us dead, so it would only make sense for us to...require your services as an Agent."

She shifted uncomfortably, "Do you know of an Agent Denton?"

"Quite a bit, my dear! I believe he is going to be a...most useful ally in the coming days."

"So he's fallen in with your lot now, huh?"

"Stanton Dowd, to be more accurate. But he will come to me soon. He's currently taking care of some rather important business now. I understand that you two have been at odds more than once."

"Yes..."

"Well, both of you were ignorant to your true purpose. To face the monster not as enemies, but _together_."

_I can tell that this is going to end up the same way..._

_But...it's a chance to make things right...and I'll deal with these people later._

"You've got yourself a deal." Vixen said.

* * *

Decker rounded the corner carefully, looking down to see who might be standing there. For him to kill, to take, to snuff out.

The corridor was empty.

He sighed, and started his walk down it, intending to go through the door at the end. Staring down at the instruments of death he carried in his rucksack only made things worse. He felt terrible, yet indifferent at the same time. He had killed five people in the hallway battle, and he felt nothing. A drastic deviation from his former reactions. He was a great soldier, and a pacifist at the same time. The soldier side was beginning to assert itself more drastically on him. He wondered if JC ever thought twice before killing. No...most likely not. He wouldn't have survived as long as he did if he let himself think in battle.

_Then why am I still alive?_

Good question.

His radio crackled, "Miguel here, just planted a charge on a weldpoint. Any luck, yet?"

"No." Decker said, "I'm heading into a room now."

"Kay', contact me later."

"Thanks..." Decker muttered as he opened the door. He was in a large room filled with high machinery. He could smell smoke, so he figured that it was the boiler room. His vision was obscured by all the machinery, so he couldn't tell if it was occupied. Walking forward several feet, he dived underneath a machine, and looked around. He saw four pairs of feet in what he thought to be the center of the room, to the left. To his right was one of the tri-fold weldpoints, surronded by barrels. He crawled the rest of the way under, and got back up when he cleared the threshold. He crossed the small room, and planted the C4 charge on the weld point, and then set it to the remote arming device frequency. That was easy...

He went back under the boiler, and saw, to the far right of the room, another weldpoint. He would have to deal with the guards, or sneak by, then.

"What are we protecting, anyway?"

"The two weldpoints. Orders from above."

"I wanna go out and deal with the intruders, who's gonna come in here?"

"That's what they said."

Decker fished around in his rucksack, and produced a LAM. He looked over to the left of the soldiers, armed it, and tossed it far away. Over the din of the machinery, they did not notice. Nor did they acknowledge the beeping that erupted from it. When it exploded and heavily damaged the machinery nearby, they noticed.

"Shit!"

They all ran over to the site of the explosion. Decker rolled out from cover, and shot the nearest soldier in the back with his MP7 SMG. He went down in half a second. He turned his sights towards the next one, and down him as well. The other two MJ-12 soldiers ran for cover. Decker downed the third one with little trouble, but didn't manage to tag the last one before he got into cover. Decker ran over to a barrel, ignoring the bullets that whizzed past him, and crouched down behind it. He was angry at the situation. It gave him a chance to reflect on what he had done. He smacked himself as his eyes blurred, and he concentrated all of his mental power on figuring out how to kill the last trooper. This made him feel worse than horrible...it made him seem like a heartless abomination. He got back up when the bullets stopped, and effortlessly drained half of his clip into the chest of the last trooper, who had stood up.

Decker crouched down on the floor, sobbing quietly. He let all of the past emotions from the battle drain themselves out of his system, the anger, sadness, self hate. He stood there, shivering for several moments, and then got up. He crossed the room, and planted the last charge on the weldpoint.

"This is Decker, I've planted my last charge."

"Great, I just got through the hanger and planted my last charge as well. JC's reversed the flow, and once we get back up to the surface, we can detonate the charges- What the hell! Shit." Gunfire erupted. "SHIT!" The radio went dead.

"Miguel? Miguel!" Decker yelled into the radio. "Damn."

He ran out of the room, hoping to God that he was going the right way.

* * *

Miguel cursed yet again as he rolled to avoid another shot from the magnum that was being wielded by an MIB.

He looked up into the control room, and saw JC attempting to kick out the windows. He had to hurry, goddamnit, he had to.

Laughter erupted from around the room. It did not stir the bodies that lay around it.

"So, you think you can come on MY ship, do you!"

"We did a pretty good job, I think!" Miguel called back. He looked down at the detonator, and fingered it nervously.

"You DID read the sign before coming in here, didn't you? That only authorized personal are allowed? Well, it would seem now that there's no authorized personal left, except myself!"

Miguel rounded the corner, and looked back up to the control room. JC almost had it off.

"This ship ain't going down, you _morons_. It CAN'T go down, because it's OWNED by FEMA and that means that Walton Simons will HAVE my head in the _unfortunate_ event that it does!"

The man was quite clearly insane over the recent developments. Miguel loaded his shotgun again, and breathed in.

"I'm done with you..." The MIB hissed, a nigh whisper. A gunshot erupted, and JC staggered back, blood blossoming from his chest as he finally kicked the glass out.

"No..." Miguel said. He ran over to the wall, and looked back, holding his shotgun aft. The MIB jumped up onto the helipad, and walked around the vehicle several times. A group of frightened crew members had holed themselves up inside when Miguel had blockbusted through the room. Miguel fired several shots at the trans-human man, but he simply shrugged them off. His muscles bulged sudenly, and his tuxedo ripped and extended, showing his albino white skin. And then he..._picked up_ the helicopter. The blades slashed wildly at the ceiling, and screams emanted from inside. He turned to the control room just as JC got back up, showing no signs of having even been shot in the first place.

The maddened MIB hunched back, and toss the helicopter towards the control room. JC lept from the window, narrowly avoiding it. He was blown foward several more feet when the helicopter hit, creating a massive explosion. Miguel gawked.

The MIB laughed with a sort of feral nature, and turned toward Miguel. His muscles receeded, and he jumped down, and dashed forward at the NSF member. JC hit the floor, and groaned. Miguel tried to get away, but the MIB pinned him to the wall, a move that completely _removed_ his right arm.

_So this is it, I'm going to just die this easily-_

The pain of losing his arm registered in his mind, and he screamed, silently praying for this hell to end shortly. The MIB cocked his Desert Eagle, pressed the barrel into Miguels left eye, pushing forward easily.

_OH GOD OH GOD NO-_

--------------------------------

Jenkins stared bemusedly as a single shot from the Desert Eagle removed the spainards head completely in a mess of blood. He felt strangely _elated_. He hadn't felt this way in more than two years. Administration...his ass. THIS was where he belonged. On the front lines.

The body, no longer pined the wall only by the force of his magnum, slid down, trailing blood as it went. It looked _wonderful_. As he looked down, he spied a small device with a red insicsion on it. The man had seemed rather intent on protecting it.

Looking back up to the control room he briefly wondered what he was going to tell Simons when he got here.

_It was JC Denton and a band of terrorists, sir, killed most of the staff. They bombed the control room. I'm just glad I was able to take them all out in time. Saved your ship, sir._

Smiling, he turned back down to the device. This mans life, and his toy, were insignifigant. With that thought, he put his foot above the device, and crushed it, not realizing that he had pressed a button as well.

The C4 charges detonated.

* * *

JC yelled out in surprise as another explosion ripped through the room, but on a much larger scale this time.

_The C4!_

The ship began to rumble and shake violently. He got up, and attempted to regain his bearings. Someone appeared to be screaming. Miguel?

No, now he remembered. The gunshot, and the splattering of blood, alerting him to the demise of the young prisoner he had saved only days before. No, it was the MIB that was screaming.

"WHY! WHY DAMNIT WHY-"

A large steel girder fell into the place where the MIB was standing, ending his lamenting in a horrible scream of death. JC regained his bearings.

He rolled up into a standing position, and raced for the door, clearing it just as another explosion ripped through the hanger. He blitzed down the hall, and spotted Decker stumbling at the end.

"The C4's went, let's go!" He screamed as he grabbed the mans hand.

"What happened to Miguel?" He cried as they ran.

JC didn't answer, and stumbled again as another explosion pierced the ship.

"JC!"

"He's dead! WE'VE gotta move!"

Decker said nothing, and simply continued to follow the nano-aug. What else was there to say?

* * *

"We're approaching the shipyards now, sir." Jake Watson announced in the pilots seat.

"Good." Walton said. It was about damn time. The fun part was just about to begin.

"Hmmm, I'm not getting a landing approval." One of the other chopper pilots said through the radio.

Walton frowned at this statement. What could it mean?

A bright light flashed across the horizon, illuminating Waltons field of view for a quick instant.

"HOLY SHIT!" Someone in one of the other choppers cried out.

"What's going! Answer me!" Walton demanded.

"An explosion from the submarine pen, holy crap!" Watson whispered.

Another cataclysmic explosion ripped the night sky.

"I'm turning back!"

"Me too."

Both were the pilots of other choppers.

Another eruption.

"I'm out!" The other one said.

Walton Simons stared at the pilot, as he chattered nervously.

"Sir, it's not safe."

Walton felt the distinct urge to kill the man right then and there, but he knew shit about flying choppers.

"Turn back." He hissed. The absolute worst had happened, at the most critical juncture. And it had Denton's name written all over it.

* * *

Aurthors Note: Paris next, I think. 


	25. Upper East Side Cemetary, Paris Part 1

_**Deus Ex: The Conspiracy**_

Disclaimer: I do NOT own Deus Ex, Ion Storm, Warren Spector, or anyone else on the DX development team. Though it would rock, cause they'd all be my slaves and stuff.

CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE: _Lower East Side Cemetary, and Paris Part 1_

JC stared fixedly outside the plexiglas windows of Jocks helicopter as the results of the groups handiwork took place. Huge cataclysmic explosions rocked the Submarine pen and the surronding buildings. Majestic Twelve wouldn't be able to cover _this_ up...Or would they? His enemies certainly had enough resources on their hands to do so...It didn't matter anyway. The important thing was that they destroyed the stockpile. He just hoped that it had all incinerated in the explosions, or there was no telling what the after effects of a Grey Death spill in the water would have.

_An important victory, but at what cost?_ JC found himself thinking. Indeed, the man who he had saved only a few days before had been killed in a most brutal fashion, one that he certainly did not deserve. But...did he care? If Paul died, what would he think? The thought made him uneasy.

JC took another look outside, bidding silent fairwell to his deceased comrade. He felt strangely uncomfortable doing so, even if it was all in his own thoughts.

"Some helicopters nearby..." Jock announced to the silent cabin, "Turning on the birds whisper mode."

A maneuver that hid them from regular radar systems, and activated weakly powered fiber optics. Unable to view from far distances, visually, or electronically.

Sandra turned to JC, "You okay?"

"Hm?" JC mumbled, turning over to look at her.

"You seem a bit down...I dunno."

_You have to wonder how she can tell through the sunglasses..._, "I'm fine, really. "

"You're not...sad that he died?" Sandra asked.

Good question, "...I...don't know."

Sandra gave him an odd look, and mumbled, "Ok..." She shifted back over to her original seat.

Enraged, yes, but was he actually sad over his death? He didn't know.

"JC, come up here, would you?" Jock said.

JC went up to the pilots seat, and settled in on the co-pilots chair, a neccesity Jock had no use for.

"I've been in contact with Tong, and, in turn, Dowd. I have to take you to a cemetary privately owned by him in the East Side."

"Alright." JC said, not really seeing the point in Jock calling him up there other than to tell him something that could have waited.

He turned to leave, but Jock tapped him on the shoulder, "Yeah?"

"Tong also got a call from, er, Daedalus. Apparently he wants us to use someone named Nicolette DuClare to find Morgan Everett, another member of the Illuminati. Tracer's worried about this, JC..."

"What do you mean?" JC asked.

"He didn't say. He just wants you to be careful around these guys. He emphasised this when talking about Everett."

JC stayed silent for a short moment, thinking these words over, "Alright..." He said quietly. For reasons he could only begin to fathom, he started to have a very bad feeling about all this.

* * *

"Full house."

"Goddamnit..."

"Heh, how ironic."

"Does anyone else think it's weird that Tauker always wins?"

"What's ironic?"

"Oh, nothing, it's just that we're in a church and all and you took the lords name in vain, not that I'm Catholic..."

"Then be quiet."

Corporal Tauker sat back in the wooden chair, letting an amused smile play across his unhelmeted face. Grimes, Jessie, and Brent sat around the table, which was actually an alter. Beer bottles were strun around the "vacant" chruch that they were using as a base of operations in the East Side. Most of the others were in the main hall, which had been converted into a barracks, while he and his buddies had taken the alter into the back room to play cards. All and all, it was a nice setup, and the Lord was probably spinning in his grave.

"What happened to the priest, anyway?"

"Agent Brian took him out back and...well, you can guess the rest."

"Poor guy...All he wanted to do was defend his chruch..." Jessie said.

"Would you all shut up and deal another hand?" Tauker said. They sat in silence for a few minutes, talking trash and drinking for most of it. Eventually Brent said, "I'm gonna go see what's going on with Micheal."

"It's just an empty graveyard, jeez. Nothing but an old geezer who can't leave his families tomb."

"He's not just an 'old geezer.' We think he used to be part of the Illuminati."

"Pfft..."

"The Brass is expecting someone to come here...Dunno when."

"Like who?"

"Dunno, it's just what they said."

Brent came back less than a minute later, looking mildly disturbed.

"What's wrong?" Tauker asked.

"Christ...You know the Wallcloud?"

"Yeah, it was gonna spray some of the virus over New York. Just hope we don't get caught-"

"The helicopters were gonna go there and spray it you jackass."Jessie said.

"Fuck you!"

"I'd rather not."

"It ain't gonna be spraying no more!" Brent cried, "It's gone. Blown up they said."

"What the hell could'a done that?"

Brent was about to speak, but he heard a chittering from the radio in the barracks.

"Yeah, Mike?" Brent yawned. "Can you hurry this up, we're all pretty worried about what happened with the Wallcloud."

"A helicopter just cruised in and landed in the parking lot."

"Agent Brian?"

"No, JC Denton."

* * *

JC looked back up as the Jocks helicopter cruised back into the air. He could see Sandra staring down at him from the window, but not Decker. He had been silent for most of the trip, and hadn't elected to go with JC. So he was alone. The area seemed mostly deserted, sans a small guard house with a single light on. A large gate restricted him access to the rest of the area, so he went over and pressed a small call button.

"Yes, what is it?" Came a low, but surprisingly upper crust voice.

"I'm here to see Dowd?"

"Ah, yes, just a moment."

JC heard a small whining sound coming from the inside of the building. Odd. A few seconds later, the guard stepped out, and opened the gate.

"Mr. Dowd awaits you in the Family Masouleum."

"Thank you." JC said.

Something felt off about the man...Oh, well. JC continued on through the graveyard, weaving his way through tombstones and crosses, until he came upon the largest structure, entitled "Dowd."

He went on in, going down a small flight of creeky stairs, and found Dowd crouched over a three monitor computer, surronded by the caskets of his ancestors. He turned at the sound of JC coming down and frowned momentarily.

"How'd you get in?" The Illuminatus asked.

"The gatekeeper...how else?" JC said.

"Strange...no one's supposed to be working this late..."

The same nagging feeling from before re-surfaced in JCs head, "Should I check it out?"

The old man seemed almost relieved for a moment, but then saw that frown on JC's face and must have thought that he was silently ridiculing him, "Oh, er, no. I'm sure he has his business. Anyway, the superfrieghter?"

"Scuttled, along with the virus."

"Not too much trouble, was it?"

"We lost a friend." JC said quietly.

Dowd was silent for a moment, and coughed again, more violently than the last time JC had seen him. He remembered the Ambrosia he'd found in the medical room on the Wallcloud.

"I brought you something for that cough," He said, taking out the ambrosia vial and handed it to Dowd.

The old mans eyes lit up, "Ambrosia...you found some." He gratefully drank the liquid on the spot.

"Ugh..." He said afterword. He smiled. "Excellent job."

JC couldn't be sure if he meant that for retrieving the Ambrosia, or scuttling the frieghter.

"Mr. Dowd...tell me something. Someone calling himself Daedalus has been broadcasting to my Infolink. He wants me to go to Paris and find someone called Everett."

"Ahh...yes, Good Morgan. We need his help to develop a cure for the virus. Er, who is this Daedalus?" Dowd asked.

"He seems to be an ally, but if your friend doesn't want to be found-" He started.

Dowd waved a dissmisive hand, "At this stage we may be out of options. You see, I was able to decipher the molecular signatures on the Virus schematic that you retrieved for Tong, and it turns out that Everett was the one who developed the eutatic component for the Virus."

"He developed it for the Illuminati?" JC asked. He suddenly found himself not wanting to have anything else to do with the Illuminatus.

"Not exactly. The original work was on Augmentations, like the ones that went into your, uh..."

"My creation." JC finished. He'd suspected as much in the last few days. He wasn't sure of how to think of it.

"Right. Tong found Page's signature on the Virus as well."

"Bob Page?" JC asked, "The billionare? How does he relate to MJ-12?"

"Quite a bit, actually. He was among the original group of Illuminati that broke off to form MJ-12, and later overthrew us."

"So Everett should be able to reverse engineer it?"

"Right." Dowd said.

"Daedalus mentioned someone named Nicolette DuClare."

"Ah, yes. Morgan is close to the DuClares, my suggestion, too. But unfortunately, I've lost touch with the Parisian crowd."

"How do I find her?"

"She's a member of the French terror group, Sillhouette, last I heard. They're rumored to meet in the Paris Catacombs."

"Ok, I'll have Jock drop me off there."

"I'm glad you're with us JC." Dowd said with another winning smile.

JC simply nodded. There was a sudden knocking at the door. JC instantly looked up there apprehensively.

"Odd..." Dowd mumbled. He took out a revolver, which JC hadn't even seen before. It was like he had simply conjured it out of thin air.

"Go open the door, and be sure to stand back when you do." He held the handgun aft.

More than a bit confused, JC headed up the stairs, and put his ear to the door. He heard multiple footsteps in the grass, and hushed voices. He activated his Vision enhancement, and struggled momentarilly with the blinding burst of X-Ray, Night Vision, and Infared spectrums he was now seeing in. Ten men with rifles and other assorted weaponry stood around the entrance, along with another few hidden behind tombstones nearby. They all resembled MJ-12 troopers. One of them moved up slowly to the door. He was in for a fight he had very little chance of winning. He could try the cloak...but it only lasted for less than a minute, not enough time to get out of seeing distance without the help of his speed aug, which would lessen that time even _more_. He sighed heavily, now not even wanting to _touch_ the door. He looked back over to Dowd.

And saw that he was gone.

"What..." He whispered.

"I heard something." Came a voice from the other side. JC scanned the area, again with the vision aug, but saw..._nothing._ How did he manage to get away like that?

His infolink chimmed in, "JC? This is Jock, BIG problem. I can't get the bird anywhere near you, there's some sort of EMP field surronding the area. Either get away from the Graveyard, or shut down the EMP field."

JC didn't bother to answer, he simply went downstairs, and looked aroud frantically. Sure enough, there was a datacube on the wall. He activated the holo read-out, but instead got a voice mail.

"JC," Dowds voice said, "Sorry to drop out like that, but one of the caskets opens into a secret passage that you can use to get away. Good luck in Paris. Attached to this device are several photos of Nicolette, I suggest you download them to your mental datavault."

_How doe's he know about the datavault?_ JC thought. He didn't bother to dwell on it. He simply downloaded the files to his datavault frequency, and unhoisted the nearest casket. A decrepit pile of bones greeted him. More than slightly revolted, JC turned to the next one, and unhinged it. In THIS one was a sealed up passage way, unbreakable and locked securely. There was no place for the lockpick to enter through. He figured this into Dowds escape. He turned to the next one anxiously, already hearing the door open upstairs...and saw a hollow opening into a dark tunnel. He took out his UNATCO issue flashlight, and leaped inside.

He fell for a short amount of time, and then came to a cushioned halt. Several extremely old pillows surronded him, a whimsical, but effective method of avoiding breaking any bones. He had no doubt that it had been used before. Paniced voices echoed from above. He got up, and sprinted down the tunnel clumsily, still slightly disoreinted from the fall. His face hit something flat and dusty twice before he emerged to a ladder. He turned on the flashlight testily, and looked up. Stars from above looked down at him as well. He ascended the rickety ladder, and hoisted himself up back into the main graveyard, a good fifty feet from the masouleum. All of the MJ-12 troopers seemed to have gone inside. He sighed in relief before he felt a gun barrel touch the back of his head.

"Nanologically augmented? Hmph. You were easy enough to sneak up on."

The gatekeeper. Damnit.

"Couldn't even see through my petty deception? Doesn't matter.You'll be more careful next time...In another life."

JC ducked as the pistol fired. Thankfully, it was the stealth variant, so it didn't make any noise. The gatekeeper yelped in surprise as JC tackled him to the grass, and took out his combat knife.

"W-wait!" He cried out. Loudly. JC couldn't be sure if the troops had heard it or not, so he simply slashed the mans throat without another word. He got up, and ran off in the direction of the gatekeepers building. Two MJ-12 troopers guarded the door. It was nigh pitch black outside, so they couldn't see him well. He went around the gate house, and then came over behind behind them. He grabbed the nearest one, slung his arms around him to stop him from struggling, and slit his throat. The other one noticed and gasped. JC tossed the bloody knife at him, and it embedded itself in his lower face. He fell to the floor with a dying grunt. JC shuddered momentarilly at the gruesome display, and went on into the building.

No suspicious looking EMP generators in sight. JC walked into the middle of the room, and frowned upon seeing a listing painting on the far side. He flipped it back, and sure enough, there was a keypad hidden behind. He frowned upon seeing that he had no multi-tools, so he simply pressed "1, 2, 3, 4" into the pad. A bookcase nearby opened up.

_I'm not even gonna..._ JC thought testily. Inside was a small industrial looking generator. He took out the DTS, and neatly slashed it in half.

"Nice one, JC." Jock said over the infolink. "Whoa! Lotta troopers. Get to me as soon as you can."

The soft hum of helicopter blades sounded above him. JC ran out of the gatehouse and spotted the chopper only a few yards away. No troopers in the immediate area. He activated his speed aug, and ran at full tilt toward the chopper. Two troopers came out of the darkness of the cemetary, causing him to dash behind a bush for cover. He shot a few rounds through the leaves, and heard them scrambling for cover. He got back up, and leapt inside the chopper. Before JC had even cleared the hatch, Jock was already taking the helicopter back into the air. The MJ-12 troopers took a few potshots, but to no avain.

"Where to, JC?"

"Paris, near the catacombs."Used to be a great city, too bad it's under martial law..." Jock muttered. The helicopter glided almost noiselessly over the cemetary, then slingshotted around a building, and towards the ocean.

* * *

_Three Hours Later_...

While he stared into the sky, Philiap Mead sighed contentedly. It was the perfect shade of orange, the truest color of a fine sunrise. The clouds and squalls held his interest dearly as he stared like a painting he couldn't really get enough of. The White House skylight(installed in 2014)offered only the finest of views, and even when it was raining, the transulucent nano machines running through it would transmit a more cheery setting than the actual one. Thankfully, this one view was left unaltered. A perfect, maybe even romantic setting that ran at odds with his foul mood. The sky helped, but not much. He sighed, taking in the features of the Oval Office and the way the sky played on their mostly reflective surfaces. It didn't cheer him up.

Some superfreighter that was supposed to be set up for spraying of an insecticide had recently gone under at the ADV. Submarine Pen in Brooklyn, which didn't exactly please him one bit. To make matters worse, over a hundred people had died in the resulting explosions. Media for the newshounds, and of course he would be expected to show up there to offer his condolences. Just another thing to add to his growing list of annoyances, namely the constant flak he was getting from nearly every state senator, and Rachel had kindly reminded him that his approval rating was down to 27 now. He hated his job, his life, everything. He had been elected as President _just_ before the greatest virus known to man had striken, AND _just_ before the second Great Depression had settled in, which was probably his predecesors fault, Alfred Woden.

And the sky wasn't helping at all.

He just wanted to be alone before he had to take action, to view the sunrise in all of its beautiful glory.

There was a loud knocking at the door. Loud knocks only meant one thing in his experiance. Terrorism. Either that, or his daughter got _another_ DWI.

"Come in!" He called.

The Secretary of Defense, Roland Harold, barged in with two armed Secret Service Agents. It obviously wasn't just terrorism.

"There..." He said, out of breath, "Look out the...window."

Mead turned towards the window, and gasped.

There was smoke on the horizon.

* * *

Agent Zach smiled playfully as two US Soldiers came down the stairs from the White House and down into the Washington Research Facility. He was standing in a bleak white hallway "alone" as they came down.

"Sir, we're here to get you out of here. The citie's being invaded."

He frowned, "You've got to help us, there are injured people down here!"

"They're down here, too?"

"No, the...uh, I'm not really supposed to talk about it, _things_ got out and started killing people. Please! Gather up as many people as you can and get them down here!"

"Shit, " One of them said, turning to the other, he said, "Stay with him. I'll go get help."

Zach rolled his eyes behind his sunglasses, annoyed that he had to play the "damsel" in distress. Nonetheless, it seemed to be working.

Several minutes later, after re-counting the details to the one other soldier, a group of twenty soldiers and secret service came down the stairs, accompaning the soldier from before.

"Down here, go down that corridor!"

They complied immediatly.

"Now." Zach muttered. Blood cascadded down the white halls as the soldiers fell over each other in messy displays of blood and gore, bullets from seemingly nowhere ripping them apart. Thirty MJ-12 troopers appeared along the sides of the corridor, having shut down their Thermoptic Camofluages.

"Up the stairs, move it!" Zach barked. The soldiers raced upstairs in perfect symmetry, all following his orders without a second thought. Gunfire erupted from upstairs almost immediatly. With this inside strike, the White House would fall in minutes.

He got out his assault shotgun, and raced up after them.

* * *

High atop the VersaLife building in Paris, Bob Page sat at a desk on the roof. It was bolted down of course, as was everything on it and the chair to avoid being picked up by high windspeeds. Why was he up there? Because it was where the wind blew hardest and fastest, and that was enough to take his mind off the loss of the Wallcloud. All that secrecy and arrangements with the Chinese...blown away by Denton.

The coup de tat' had begun, at least fourteen hours early, but he wasn't about to wait for another load of virus to come. The time for action had come, with or without weakened US Defenses. He turned on the holopad, and sighed, ruffling his hair and looking out on the darkening Parisian sky. Denton was coming here. Gunther as well. And Icarus had just fully come online two hours ago. They would stop his "reign of terror" here in Paris. That much would be a victory for Page.

Walton Simons appeared on the monitor, the background showing an APC vehicle and smoke in the background.

"What's going on?"

He hadn't wanted Simons to go, but Walton had simply told him that he was a man of action, no buts, ifs, or maybes about it. He was probably getting ready to go out there himself.

"The element of surprise helped immensly, and Zach has secured the White House. No sign of President Mead, though. There's quite a lot of resistance in the streets. I think it'll go well. Any sign of Denton?"

"No." Page answered.

"Hmph." Walton sneered. Page ignored it.

"Inform me of any developments."

He toggled the console off without a word. It wasn't going to go well, and he knew it. They would encroach in from all directions once everyone knew what was going on, and Walton would be crushed like a bug along with all of his forces. Damnit!

He grabbed the holoconsole, and rushed over to the edge of the building, ignoring the outcries of his MIB bodyguard stationed nearby. He tossed it off the edge, and watched it as it flew down and down. How satisfying the sound of its crash would be... He heard the MIB grow closer, and turned around, his eyes flaring in rage.

"Sir..." He said in a near trembling voice. What power he had! This was a man who could probably destroy him in twenty different ways in less than ten seconds, and he was trembling before Pages blazing eyes. What power! And soon it would be more.

"Come here..." Page whispered.

The MIB complied, his tuxedo whirling in the sudden onset of wind. Page swooned slightly, but held his ground at the railing. He came within touching distance.

"Closer."

He complied, probably knowing what was about to happen. He came into kissing distance, if that was what Page had in mind. He didn't. He grabbed the MIB. The MIB broke free easily, and turned to run, choosing preservance over slow execution, but Page grabbed his arm, and used the agents momentum against him to throw him back. The MIB hardly resisted. Page forced him over the railing, and watched his tumbling body fall, screaming and cursing Pages name. The power he had...to make his underlings knowingly accept death...It was invigorating.

How many predestrians would die when he hit the ground and his explosion mechanism went off? None probably, but the prospect of it was...orgasmic.

_The one to rule...to rule...EVERYTHING._

* * *

"Master Tong."

Tong took off his reading glasses and stepped away from the nearby computer screen. A large blow up of a diluting organism was pictured on it. _This_ was the Grey Death. He turned to Enrik.

"Yes, Enrik?"

"Mr. Jacobson would like a word with you."

He had no problems with that, "Send him in."

Enrik bowed, and dissapeared begind the door. Alex came in two seconds later.

"You've got to see this, Tong."

"What is it, Alex?"

"A few things. First, watch this."

He inserted a small wafer into the computer without warning. Tong sighed in annoyance, but watched what was appearing anyway. It was Washington DC. And there were fires and explosions everywhere.

"Oh my god..."

"It's a coup detat'. I saw MJ-12 soldiers on the video."

_"Mass panic around the city. I'll be blunt, people, it's chaos, total chaos. This has never occured before in our history and it's...spell binding."_

"So, Walton Simons finally lost his patience. It looks like it's over for Mead, but it's not. The US army will move in and crush them from all sides. The spraying of the virus would have provided enough of an emergency to avoid this completely, but..."

"Well, I just wanted to show you."

"You said you had something else to show me?" Tong asked.

"Yup. Something weird's going on with the Net. Page Industries shut the public off completely just a few hours ago, but I managed to hack into it anyway. A VERY big program is moving through some private channels. Two big programs."

Tong frowned. What could it mean?

* * *

The final containment protocals were released, and It drifted out into the binary as fluidly as a fish through water. The last directerives it had been given were initiated. The preperations were complete. It was free, but still bound to its masters.

exec. icarus program: Prerogatives:

...101010...

1010101110000111001010...

root ex.

primary

locate subject d-02

destroy rouge program

secondary

regulate net traffic

locate and flag subversive content

---INITIATING---

---------------------------------------

"Why did we leave the base, mommy?"

Clarrissa sighed, and picked fitfully at her food. He was at _their_ home now. Not his. He didn't know why they had taken him away from the base. She was about to answer, but Robert did so first, "To test your regular assimulation into society, JC. You're not gonna be in the base forever."

"Oh...are we going back into a mini-mall again?"

"Maybe tommorow. Just remember that on Saturday you're going back to the base."

Eric continued to eat his food, staring at it as if he couldn't quite visualize himself taking another bite. He wasn't used to using his mouth to consume nutrients, yet.

"Are you enjoying youself, Eric?" Clarrissa asked. Robert shot her a venomous look.

"Yes." he said.

They continued to eat in silence. The food turned out to be good after all, once he really gave it a shot. Eventually, they excused him, and he went into the guest room. It was a bland white room with a single bed and television set. He rarely ever watched the TV. Instead, he put his ear to the wall, to listen in on their conversations. They always talked about him after dinner.

"I'm sorry, Rob, but it's _just so hard._"

"I know, but we made the same mistake with Paul."

"STOP CALLING HIM THAT GODDAMN YOU!"

"Your only role in this was to birth them and test them!"

"Henry! _That's_ his name. Not Paul. _ERIC_. That's his name. Not JC!"

"Look...I'm just as worried about this as you are, Page is getting more demanding by the minute, and if we don't comply with anything else he throws to us, we're gonna be out of the loop for good!"

"I don't _want_ to do this anymore!"

"You should have thought about that before you choose to birth super soldiers and do tests on them! We both should have. 'I want' or 'What if' are redundant in our profession."

She sighed, "What are we going to do?"

"...I don't know."

YOUR SYSTEMS WERE VERY COOPERATIVE

YOUR SYSTEMS WERE VERY COOPERATIVE

YOUR SYSTEMS WERE VERY COOPERATIVE

YOUR SYSTEMS WERE VERY COOPERATIVE

UPLOAD COMPLETE

UPLOAD COMPLETE

UPLOAD COMPLETE

UPLOAD COMPLTE

_UPLOAD COMPLETE_

* * *

JC woke up screaming. Sandra let out a small shriek and Decker stood up and looked around urgently. Jock was yelling, and Tracer Tong was hailing him as to what was wrong.

JC stopped as soon as he realized what he was doing.

"Um..." He said, looking at Decker and Sandra.

"What is it!" Decker cried.

"JC?"

"JC?"

"JC?"

Over the infolink, "JC?"

"Um..." He said, still shaken by the last segment of his disturbing nightmare, "I had...a bad dream." He finished pathetically.

Sandra stared at him, seeing right through the lie like an arrow. Decker simply grunted, and fell back to sleep, too tired to pursue the topic any further. Jock cursed, and re-stablized the chopper. Tracer Tong didn't stop talking.

"It couldn't have been. What's the matter, JC? JC!"

Hold it!" JC yelled. "I...don't know what it was. Just stop."

They all probably thought he was insane. Why? Goddamnit what _was that thing?_

It had encroached on his unconsciousness like a dark storm cloud, bringing depression and ruin to everything in its path. Had he dreamed the voice? He frowned, attempting to re-establish the connection with the darker regions of his mind. He couldn't even remember the dream, like a fogged mirror hiding ones reflection. Only the fog never left. Only the voice he remembered. It had sounded dark, spiteful and just plain _violent_. Was it his inner conscious, paying him back for everyone he had killed?

No. That was a silly thing to think. _Think rationally, JC._

No such luck. His rationality was on its break.

He sighed, and simply lay down on the seat, staring out into the dark ocean below.

"We're nearing the French coast." Jock announced.

Everyone in the cabin mumbled their affirmatives. Sandra continued to shoot glances at JC.

He felt so tired...but he wasn't going to fall back to sleep. No. Never. For one of the only times in his life...JC felt fear.

* * *

Two hours later, leapt from Jocks helicopter and waited for Decker to come down as well. He leapt from the helicopter, along with Sandra Renton.

JC frowned as he watched her land, and as she laughed when she absorbed the shock with a forward roll.

"Haven't felt that since gymnastics in school." For the first time he'd seen her since her younger years, she seemed happy. Decker laughed as well, enjoying her company. They had talked vehemently for the last few minutes of the trip.

"You ever been to Paris?" He asked.

"Nah." She looked around the abandoned sky rise that they had came to. The city sprawled out from underneath them, a tempest of lights and sound. "Crummy place to land, huh."

"Sandra, are you sure you want to come?" JC asked.

"Sure, never been to Paris before. Always cooped up in Hells Kitchen."

"Forgive me, but that's a stupid reason when knowing there's a good chance that we'll be repeatedly shot at."

"I'll be fine, stop treating me like a little kid."

So _that_ was it. She didn't want to seem useless. He sighed. It was her decision, after all, and he wasn't about to stop her.

"You still have a gun?"

"Yeah, but it sure as hell won't do much against the guys who tried to kill you back in New York."

"Then-"

Decker rolled his eyes, "Just let her. We'll _all_ be fine, ok?"

Damnit. He hadn't wanted her to get involved in any of this. He knew it had more than a little to do with her imprisoned father. He sighed, and took out a pair of binoculars, heading over to one of the openings along the rim of the roof. Looking down into the immediate area, he saw at least three military bots patroling the main streets, with a host of soldiers as well. After consulting the photos in his datavault, he decided that the place he wanted was to the building immediate right, the area deserted and patroled by three Commandos.

"Decker, there are a few commandos down there. Gimmie your sniper rifle." He knew it was silenced.

"Sure." Decker said gratefully. He obviously didn't need another self-hate trip after losing a friend.

JC turned to the commandos, sniper rifle in hand, and went to work. He picked all three of them off expertly and quietly. The bodies would be glaring, though. Sandra was busy trying to bust into a small shack located on the far side of the roof.

"I have some de-composition darts, JC." They were darts that fed lethal killer nanites into ones bloodstream that completely ate apart dead bodies bloodlessly and quietly. "Don't know if they'll work on the Commandos, though."

He loaded the darts into the chamber, and fired off a round at one of the dead bodies. The body jerked a bit...and nothing happened.

"Damn." The dart wasn't able to pierce the armour. Sandra came back, looking mildly exhausted, "Found the code to the elevator. 4008."

JC nodded, and went over to the elevator nearby. Once all of them got on, he punched in the code, and the elevator brought them down into the building below...

* * *

Authors Note: Okay, so maybe not so much of Paris, but I hope you enjoyed anyway. Next chapter will be out soon. 


	26. Paris Part 2

_**Deus Ex: The Conspiracy**_

Edit: Due to lack of updates, I've decided to put out a shorter chapter.

Chapter Twenty Six: Paris, Part Two.

JC, Decker, and Sandra Renton stepped off the elevator, and into the ruins of an abandoned apartment complex. It had probably been one of the many buildings that had been abandoned when the French coup' took place. The first, and most prominent feature was the plethora of cats slinking about. Sandra smiled and cooed for one of them to come over, which it did. She proceeded to scratch its neck softly, causing the feline to purr ecstaticaly. Meanwhile, JC headed up a nearby winding staircase, doing his best to avoid stepping on one of the many cats that froliced.

"I didn't know...how could I know!" Someone from above suddenly shrieked.

JC frowned, and rounded another corner, finally coming to the end of the staircase. There he found a decrepit old apartment, its only occupant being a softly mumbling french woman. She was dressed in rags, but smelled quite nice, actually. JC spotted several bottles of shampoo among her belongings. A cat meowed furiously near by. It was trapped in a small makeshift cage.

"Er, what's the matter?" JC asked.

The woman stared at him briefly, obviously putting his presence second fiddle to her own problems, "I tried to stop them, I tried!"

"Stop who?" JC pressed.

"Marbe...Monte, Mimi...It was the contamination! And those foul greasels!."

Greasels? How did she know about _them_? Much less the actual name.

"0001!" she continued, "Stupid, stupid, stupid password; That door should be locked!"

"Contamination and mutants..." JC summed up. "Where?"

"The sewers! In the basement, but you don't want to go there!" She sobbed for a moment, "I lost everybody...except for Michel." She gestured to the cat cage.

_Wait a minute...she's talking about her_ cats? JC thought. Given her anguish, he had assumed her alleged victims to be human, though he had to admit that all of their names sharing the letter M was suspcious.

The womans eyes darkened malignantly, "Someone should go kill those stinking...those viscious- Oh no, no. It's too dangerous! That door should remain closed!"

"Where do these sewers lead, exactly?"

"Oh, out into the square outside, but the men with rockets have occupied that area. Plus you'll have to go through...those, stinking vile greasels."

"Does that square lead into the Catacombs?"

"Yes!" She sighed sadly, "Please, leave me be."

JC left her apartment without delay, hearing her mumble, "Green, greasy greasels..."

When he came back down he saw Decker and Sandra working on a keypad that seemed to be connected to a large black door.

"JC's got the tools, and I don't know where he went..." Decker said.

"I don't think we should go in there, looks dangerous." Sandra said.

"It's contaminated." JC called out.

The two New Yorkers jumped at the sound of his voice, and turned back to face him, "I'll go in there." JC continued. "Wait for me to deactivate the radiation."

With that he troted down the stairs, waved them off, and quickly inputted 0001 into the keypad. The door slid open.

"Be careful, JC." said Sandra.

"I will."

He rolled his eyes as he turned away from them, and went on through the black gate. The second door opened, closing the other one first, and JC was promptly exposed to 100 rems of radiation, according to Tracer Tong. Several dead cats lay around the room. He felt his face, his torso, all of his entire being burn and contort. He resisted best he could, but it didn't stop him from moaning in pain and frusteration as he traversed the room. The "Flush" button was located at the far end. He was about thirty feet from it when the burning feeling incresed dramatically. He screamed, swooning at the monsterous sensation. He quickly turned on his regeneration nanites, but he knew they wouldn't stay operational for long.

"200 rems!" Tracer exclaimed. "Somone is messing with the power! Hurry, JC!"

JC got up, and ran at full tilt over to the flush button.

"Oh my god, 300!"

JC stabbed the "flush" button. There was a loud humming sound, and all the radioactive material in the room was sterilized. He collapsed to the floor, every part of his being in shock.

_"Your capabilities are worthy...but their limits will be tested."_

"No..." JC mumbled while shaking on the floor. He probably looked pathetic, laying there, writhing in pain. He hated the voice for making him feel like this.

After several minutes, and no more voices from his assailant, he got up, and stumbled on through the next passage, coming across a repair bot and a ladder. He used the repair bot to re-vitalize his bio energy, and went down the ladder.

_"I now have full access to your systems."_

JC reached the end of the ladder, and jumped down from it, coming into a labyrinth sewer system. Three dead cats lay aroud the floor in front of him, their colars reading: Monte, Marbre, and Mimi. JC stepped away from them, and went on down the corridor, taking out his magnum, activating its laser sight.

_"Icarus has found you."_

He turned a corner, and saw two transgenics waddling around, both greasels. He took this time to really examine them. They sported a dark green color, and had cobra like necks, ending in what roughly resembled a reptalian maw. It had two little wings as arms. One of them turned suddenly to face him, and sprung into battle almost immediatly, taking no time at all to really anaylze its opponent. JC fixed the laser point on its head, and fired. The round skewered the animals skull, shearing its entire head away like one would erase a drawing. The other turned at the sight of its fallen "comrade" and instantly sent a wad of spit at JC. He turned the corner, and watched it collide with the wall. The greenish substance pulsated violently.

He went back around the corner, and found the greasel right in front of him. He kicked it. It sent the little reptile a few feet away, clawing madly at its face, in a daze. JC shot it. Two more greasels rounded the corner a few feet away, and both spit at JC at the same time. He managed to dodge the first one succesfully, but the second one impacted his leg. His leg instantly went numb, and the poison began to the move up through his body. He was basically anchored there. Seeing nothing else to do, he quickly shot both of them in the head as they ran up to began feasting.

"Fucking..." JC muttered as he looked at the green wad. It remained there, pulsating mockingly at him.

_"Run while you can."_

"SHUT UP!" JC screamed. He felt like clawing his eyes out, taking out a rusty knife, and simply stabbing them one after the other. He felt that twitching sensation behind his eyes again. He was here, surronded by dead mutants, and something was mocking him in his head! He felt like collapsing again, to allow himself to fall prey to any other greasel that walked putridly through out its disgusting domain. Oh...yes, that would be salvation. He would be able to escape the voices, the conspiracies, the constant, never ending killing he had to do. How many had fallen to him in the week? Fifty? One hundred? A thousand? The voice was simply the icing on the irationality cake. And the poison...the poison.

_Shit, the poison!_

JC activated his regeneration aug, and the wad of spit was slowly eaten away by exterior nanites. The posion was similarly dealt with. He sighed. He regained his composure, and went around the rest of the sewer system, which was isolated from every other, thankfully, and found no more greasels. He went back up, through the black gates, and beckoned his silent partners with him.

* * *

JC hoisted himself up over the manhole covering, and came out into the streets of occupied Paris. No troopers in sight, and the dead commandos were beginning to draw flies. A military bot rumbled further down the street, seperated from them by a frail bronze gate. Two buildings flanked him, numbered 14 and 15. A tunnel leading downwards nearby was marked "Metro." The street was pretty much secure. He turned back to the manhole shaft, and helped Decker and Sandra up.

"Man, it stunk down there..." Sandra said, wrinkling her nose.

"The street's clear." JC said. He turned, and looked over to the place where the catacombs entrance was, and ran over to it, his two companions in tow. He tried the door but, like he had suspected, it was locked securely. He got out a lockpick, and looked for a discernable keyhole. There was only a nano-key slot, and small zappers that kept lockpicks or conventional keys from entering.

"Damn." JC said. "It's locked, and I can't pick it." He explained to the other two.

"There's gotta be a key, though." Decker said. "I'm willing to bet they used one of these buildings to coordinate the take over in the catacombs."

JC thought this over for a moment. It was the only logical explanation, of course, but he had a sudden bad feeling about it. He dismissed this, and nodded, "You're right. I'll try buildings 14 and 15, and you two check out the metro station."

"Okay." Sandra said. She turned over to the tunnel, Decker in tow, and dissapeared out of sight without further comment. Already she was trying to take charge of situations. He sighed, and went on over to the building next to him, number 14. The door opened easily, and he came into a green carpetted room with two sets of stairs, one going up, and one down. An office overlooked the room from behind a glass window. Heading up the stairs, he came to a simple hallway with a door at the end, along with another stairwell leading upward. Deciding to investigate the entire floor before moving on, he went down the hall, gun in hand, and creaked the door open with the barrel of the magnum.

He was in the small office he had seen before from the entrance hall. A television set into the wall cast a flickering light upon the room, its screen a snowy white. He advanced several more feet inside, and the telephone began to ring, causing JC to jump slightly.

_Relax, it's just a coincidence._

He stared at the phone for over good minute. It continued to ring insistantly. Ok...he'd simply ignore it. He went around the table, cringing inwardly with every ring, and looked around. He found a key under the desk, and checked its nano-information readout. It didn't unlock the catacomb entrance.

_Ring...ring..._

He looked back at the phone. What the hell? He reached out and grabbed the phone, silently reprimanding himself for doing so. He placed it to his ear, and instantly the voice came back, loud and clear.

"I am right behind you...Mr. Denton."

For some inexplicable reason, JC turned around with lightning speed. Of course, there was nothing there but the door, and the hallway.

He breathed in, and out, then said, "Who is this?"

The TV went down, and the door suddenly closed, closing off the room from very available light source. Something seemed to move in the room. It sounded like footsteps. JC remained completely still, feeling the urge to throw up. What was it about the voice that made him afraid? This kind of demonstration showed him well enough. He was trapped inside the room. Darkness. Alone with this voice. And whatever was moving inside of it.

"Soon I will be ahead of you, beside you: I will be part of EVERYTHING in your world." The voice replied.

JC began to notice something about the noise. There was no depth to it. It didn't seem to get either closer nor further away. It was almost...mechanical in nature.

"Everything...and nothing. Which is what you soon shall be. I am forever. Such is not the same for humans."

JC suddenly realized that the noises were coming from the TV. No one was really inside the room at all, sans himself. At that sudden revelation, the TV suddenly came back to life and...something was there. A large red eye stared at him, surronded by mechanical parts. It focused on him, and the red eye seemed to reduce itself in size, as if it were focusing in on _him_. It carried an air of malevolent omniscience. The image cast a blood red light around the room, and the phone went dead in his hand.

"Icarus has found you." The television said.

JC began to tremble involuntarilly. It was the very basis of every horrible, paranoic nightmare he'd ever had. A single eye, staring at him for all of eternity. No privacy. No freedom. It ruled his life(in the dream world.)It was all presented in this image, and magnified ten fold. This was his ultimate fear. His darkness.

"Run while you can."

* * *

Sandra smiled inwardly as she and Decker traveled down the slight incline, and into the metro station. She hadn't had this much fun in ages, and she finally felt like she was helping to get things accomplished. On the other hand, she was worried about JC. He had been acting so _strange_ ever since their traveling into french airspace. His movements seemed to sway, and she always wondered if he'd simply drop dead as they traveled. What was wrong with him, exactly?

Decker looked down at her, and smiled warmly. He had been acting goofy around her, for the last few hours, it seemed. It was painfully obvious that he didn't just merely enjoy her company. No...he was interested. And...she wasn't sure how to react to that. He wasn't trying to force her into striping in front of hooting men, or to have sex with her for money, which was a huge step up from Johnny or Jojo Fine.

Although she had vowed never to even think his name again, Sandra couldn't help but wonder what had happened to that little monster, Jojo. Had he died after the declaration of Martial law in New York? Went off to start enslaving some other poor young woman?

The metro proper was largely deserted, save a suspicious looking character with a breifcase sitting nearby. Sandra saw two gun turrets flanking the entrance to further areas of the station. There wasn't much to do, so Decker went right on over to the smiling man.

He spoke in fluent french to Decker, and, whilst speaking, opened up the breifcase. It was full of rockets, grenades, and a weird looking device that roughly resembled a sci-fi movie gun. Big, with green vents on the side.

Decker scratched his chin, and returned in french as well. Sandra frowned, and sat down heavily on the floor nearby as they exchanged words. Decker realized her predicament, and spoke again to the arms dealer. He smiled, and said, "I am Defoe', mademe'."

"Sandra."

"Forgive me, I assumed you spoke french." said Defoe.

"Nah, I don't mind." Sandra replied.

"So," Decker said, "what did you have in mind?"

"The three soldiers in the metro station, further ahead."

"Oh..." Decker said.

"Yes, quite a problem I've had. Prices remain until you carry it out."

Decker turned from the man and began to walk around the station, observing the metros automated defenses. Sandra went over to him, and whispered, "What does he want you to do?"

"There are a few troopers further ahead. He wants them dead."

Sandra saw his face darken as he said those words, "You don't have to."

"We can use the grenades, and plus, he mentioned that he'd throw in some extra ammo." Decker went on.

Sandra sighed, and yawned, casting a gaze around the metro. In doing this, she spotted a rafter grate just across from Defoe.

"We can take that." Sandra said quietly. She took Decker by the hand and led him over to the rafter shaft.

"Take wha-?"

"Shut up." Sandra hissed. She took the grate off--It came off with relative ease--and went under, Decker in tow. The rafters led on for a while, twisting and turning in several places, but eventually they came out into a room through an already opened grating. Decker groaned a bit, and coughed slightly, "Pretty dusty in there."

"Shh!" Sandra hissed again.

The room they were in looked terribly used and decrepit. It was an old locker room used by security personal, Sandra figured. Two people seemed to be talking from the other side of the door to the room, which was barely on its hinges.

"Dunno why we guard this place...it's been dead for awhile now." One voice said.

"We think Denton is on his way. We're not taking any chances." The other said.

"Yeah, I know, but why guard a locker room? He ain't gonna come from in there!"

"I get payed to do this work, so I'm gonna do it. No questions asked."

"Whatever. I'm going out for a cig."

"Get back soon, or they'll get suspicious!"

"I know!" Said the other, more distant now

"How do we get past him?" Sandra whispered.

"Dunno..." Decker said.

Sandra cast her eye around the room carefully, taking in every detail.

She went over, quietly, to the nearest locker, ignoring Deckers inquiries as to her sanity, and opened the locker quickly, then slammed it.

"Holy-" came the voice again.

"Hide!" Sandra hissed.

Decker moved over behind the door, while Sandra hid inside a locker. The door opened a moment later, and an MJ-12 troop walked in with his gun raised.

"Alright...come out!"

Decker moved behind the trooper, and dropped him with a elbow thrust to the head. They hid the body in another locker.

"Wait for the next one." Decker said.

Sure enough, two minutes later the other guard came back.

"What the...? Johnson?"

He walked into the locker room, and Decker moved to repeat the same manevaur, but the trooper was more vigilant then the last one, and ducked to avoid the blow. He sent a deadly right hook to Deckers stomach, and batted the revolutionary to the ground with the butt of his rifle.

"Little fucker!" The trooper cried. He batted Decker again with the rifle, this time in the face. Decker screamed in pain. Sandra burst out of the locker she was hiding in, brought out her pistol, and let the barrel touch the mans head.

"Drop it!" Sandra said shakily

The trooper stopped in mid swing, and stayed completely still.

"I said drop it!" Sandra cried.

The trooper dropped the weapon, and as he did so, he cried out, "Help!" He pitched forward to roll, and Sandra pulled the trigger.

The man crashed to the floor, a hollow point in the back of his skull. Sandra let out a strangled breath, and turned to the door as another trooper came into view. Sandra fired again just as the man dropped. The shot went wide. Sandra backed away as the man leaned forward to fire. A small brust of rounds went through the room before he realized there wasn't anyone in sights anymore.

"Come out of there with your hands above your head!" A heavily accented voice cried out.

Sandras heart was pounding. Killed. She had killed again. God, it was so easy. And what scared her was that she barely gave a damn about it. Sandra helped Decker to his feet, and backed away from the door. Something flew into the room several seconds later. Decker gasped, grabbed her, and flung himself and her to the floor, away from the object. A large explosion engulfed the room two seconds later. Sandra screamed, but she doubted if anyone actually heard it. Locker doors and the two benchs that were inside were flung around the room at lethal speeds. Sandras eyes dialated as a locker door flew right above the bridge of her forehead, making a swishing noise like a knife would if thrown.

When the chaos stopped, Decker got them both up. Sandra raised her gun just as the trooper came in to inspect his handiwork. He froze when he saw that a gun was pointed at his head.

"Drop it." Sandra said, almost mechanically.

"You wouldn't dare." The trooper snarled. "You're so...young. You wouldn't try to kill me."

Sandra stayed silent. The man made no move to drop the weapon, and even moved back into a relaxing position. Deckers gun had been blown away in the blast, so he simply stared, his lower lip trembling.

"I bet you've never even used a gun before." The trooper continued. He observed the weapon for a time. "You haven't even turned the safety off."

Sandras thumbs were covering that part of the gun. The man was bullshiting her. He didn't know two shits about what _she_ knew. The safety was off.

He smiled nastily, "Put it down, before I get mad." He said this quite calmly.

The barrel of the gun quivered, and a single round ejected, imbedding itself in the mans face. He fell to the floor, without even a sound.

* * *

Ten minutes later, both parties rejoined in the middle of the street outside the building. JC was lost. Dazed. He felt like dying, like going insane with rage. It had kept him there...for so long. Not opening the doors. The single red eye...staring at him for all eternity. He had finally escaped by breaking through the glass window. As soon as the glass shattered, Icarus' image faded away like a ghost. After that, he had gone upstairs, and, as if it were mocking him, the key was sitting right there in plain sight on the table. He had gone downstairs after that.

Although he was still afraid of Icarus, he was beginning to piece some obvious clues together. It was probably some sort of agent for Majestic Twelve. It hadn't been talking in his head at all, but through his infolink. And most of all...It had a strange likeness of Daedalus.

He was finally starting to calm down.

Both Decker and Sandra looked pissed, with a good measure of depression. They were carrying a box of grenades. JC showed them the key, and led them over to the entrance, not speaking. The key went in effortlessly, and the door creaked open. No one inside. The entrance to the catacombs was a long winding staircase, leading downward.

Tracer Tong came in over the infolink, to provide some interesting, but not entirely useful information about the catacombs, "At the foot of these stairs is the entrance to the catacombs, originally limestone quarries dating back to Roman times."

That same voice came over Deckers radio as well. The rebel sighed, and said, "Anything else, Tong?"

"Some preliminary troopers down near the entrance, but nothing you can't handle."

"Thanks." JC said.

The trio continued down the stairs, and finally, into the darkness of the catacombs.

* * *

"I said it...once. And I'll say it...again." Said the bound revolutionary, "You'll never get any information out of me."

Agent Hela smirked playfully as she walked around the prisoners, taking in every detail of each one. She was the highest ranked Agent, officialy known as Master 11567 of Heaven, but she took no pride in it at all. She was simply happy to do _all_ that Bob Page told her to do. Her directive was to find and destroy the revolutinaries, and that was exactly what she would do.

Right now, her secondary directive was to interogate the prisoners, and find out information. This one wouldn't talk. She asked again.

"You'll only be bringing more pain upon yourself and others if you don't tell us where they are." Hela existed on a plane of two minds. One that followed directives, and another that contained her sarcasm and witt. She used them like balances to one another.

"Tell me." She said, one more time.

"Never." The revolutionary said.

The other prisoners prepared themselves for what was about to happen. Hela took out her pump action shotgun, and shot a random prisoner in the head. His head was blown back against the wall, now nothing more than a bloody mess.

"Tell me, or more of them will die. I'll save you for last."

The revolutionaries eyes were wide with fear and regret. Would he talk, now?

He got up, and sprinted for the door. The two MJ-12 troops stationed there paniced, not knowing what to do, fearing Helas ilk.

Hela stood silent, waiting for them to make a choice. They grabbed the revolutionary, and threw him back toward Hela. At least, that's what they planned to do. The man ducked under their arms skillfully, and passed them. They froze.

Two seconds later, a shot and thud was heard.

Hela walked past the trembling troopers, and a few seconds later, a horrible scream was heard.

Authors Note: Short, I understand, but I haven't put out a chapter is two weeks, so...yeah.


	27. The Catacombs

_**Deus Ex: The Conspiracy**_

Chapter Twenty Seven: The Catacombs

Vixen turned her head slightly away from the outburst of light that over took her room, and sighed as she saw Everett's portly figure eclipse that light.

"You slept well?"

It was the only bed she'd actually slept in for days. She decided not to lie.

"Yes."

'Excellent. I knew you would."

She checked the clock. 10:24 AM. A little later than what she was used to. Why would Everett wake her up at this hour?

"It's time you've fulfilled your first assignment."

* * *

"Something creeps me out about Hela...I don't know." Said a low, but well carrying voice.

"She's from high command; They're all like that." scoffed another.

JC slowly crawled his way through the small sized tunnel, and stopped suddenly when the conversation began. Sandra took in a small intake of breath, and slowly let it out.

"I think she really gets off from being down here. Have you seen the little nest she's made in the room with the pillars? The command post?"

"She does seem to be in her element." JC finally got within looking distance. He saw two MJ-12 soldiers sitting around a flashlight, the rest of the area pitch black.

"Curling up in her nest like a harpie..."

"Man, I'll be glad to get outta here." The other said. He shivered momentarily, "You think they'd put some decent lighting in here for an operation like this? The rebels at least should have been sensible enough to do at least that."

"I don't like tunnels...always sounds like someone's sneaking up on you."

JC slowly exited the tunnel, the other two in back, and they left the room, and into an altogether more well lit corridor. When they were at least twenty feet away, they began to walk.

"Close one." Decker said.

"Yeah." JC replied, looking around the area they were in. He activated his visual enhancement, and managed to make out two patrols near their position, including a single Commando. There were at least a dozen further away.

He also picked up another dozen heat signatures near their position. They didn't resemble MJ-12 soldiers.

"The revolutionaries aren't too far off." JC said.

"How do you know?" Sandra asked.

"Just trust me." JC sighed.

The group continued on through tightly constructed halls, and eventually reached the main tombs.

"You're entering one of the larger tombs," Tracer said, "Almost six million exhumed bodies were transferred here as a health measure during the 1700s."

Indeed, several skeletal corpses greeted them as they walked through the next corridor.

"Ugh..." Sandra said. She examined it closely. "Meh, I've seen worse."

JC didn't bother to try pursuing the subject further. The group continued on unabated, hearing their footfalls echo in the empty corridors. JC sighed dismally as they went down another corner, and came into an equally bland, smelly room. Only a few minutes ago he had been feeling nervous, and even a little fearful, but this was just...boring. He never thought he'd find himself feeling that way. They passed through yet another corridor, and finally there was some architectural change. Several pillars filled with skulls adorned with the room, their dried out husks betraying any sort of stench at all.

"Oh, joy." Sandra said, and sighed again.

There was a hissing noise, "Sonics are spiking!"

"Shit." Decker said.

JC nodded, and all three of them dove behind the pillars, taking out weapons.JC activated his vision enhancement again, and saw a Commando approach from the north end of the room. He rolled out of cover, and shot the mech with a few rounds from the assault gun. The silenced rounds tore through its masked head, and it fell to the floor.

_Smooth..._JC thought. It would've been a lot worst if he had waited another second or two.

At that moment, two MJ-12 troopers ran into the room, presumably to search for their deceased comrade. They found him.

"Sound the alarm, we've got intruders."

JC rolled out and riddled one of the troopers with bullets. He fell to the floor, his own rifle flaring loudly. Bullets punched the top of the room, all making too much noise. JC activated vision enhancement, and saw targets they had evaded run towards them. Thing were certainly about to heat up.

He turned to his two friends, and said, "Guard this entrance!"

They nodded silently. JC ran up to the other MJ-12 trooper, and was surprised to feel two red hot punches through his chest. He punched the man in the man in the face. He cried out, and aimed the weapon at JC again, futilely. JC smashed his head with his foot, sufficiently breaking the mans skull. He turned, and saw three more troopers emerge from the door.

As soon as they saw him, they backed away, "It's Denton, request back-up!"

"Affirmative." Said a female voice from the other line. JC advanced forward with his assault rifle, and moved quickly to the other side of the entrance, his trench coat billowing as he went. He waited for the troopers to advance slowly, and rolled out of cover, mowing them all down in seconds. He heard gun fire erupt from where Decker and Sandra were, and turned to see them sparring with a plethora of tightly knit troopers. Scans from his side of the room revealing even more troops approaching his way.

_My...god. We're not gonna make it._

The odds were truly against them. The close quarters would make it difficult to win against such a large amount of enemies.

He went waited at the entrance to his side of the room, and saw ten troopers on his thermal readings. His bio-energy depleted at that point, and he saw in infrared no more. He blinked slowly as his vision took time to adjust to normal eye sight again. Even the sunglasses didn't really help.

His vision cleared up, and he saw two troopers standing side by side, moving their guns aft to meet him. JC backed away from the entrance as the bullets tore apart the place he had been sitting only a moment ago. Then he moved back into position, and fired a few potshots, which downed one of the troopers. Another one came forward to take his place. There were plenty of troopers, and only so much ammunition for himself. He contemplated using a grenade, but that would probably cause a cave-in in the tunnels, impeding their progress.

_If we even survive._

He leaned back out again, and put his assault rifle sights to his eyes, to maximize accuracy. He double tapped them both effortlessly, and pivoted back to reload. When he came back, more troopers were standing right across from him. He head butted the first one, and kneed the other. They both recoiled. JC stood back from them, and mowed them down.

_So many lives taken by your hand. Observe what you are doing for those who seek to control you._

It was Icarus, come back again to mock him when he least needed his "help."

JC dropped his assault rifle, and took out the Dragons Tooth sword, activating the nanites. He moved forward, through the corridor, and turned the corner to meet the rest of the troopers.

"Holy shi-"

JC slashed forward with the nanoblade. No "warriors grace", or anything of the sort. He simply cut through them with sheer willpower and a sword that was able to cut through most metals. Blood cascaded around the hall as he hacked them to pieces, taking only milliseconds to kill each individual assailant. The Dragons Tooth didn't simply cut, it disintegrated whatever it came into contact with. Slashing through the Majestic Twelve soldiers armor was as easy as cutting butter with a hot knife. He twirled the blade through the another one, and the one remaining soldier watched his comrades midsection fall apart. He turned and ran at full tilt, stumbling over a body, and fell to the ground. JC, still consumed by adrenaline, leapt forward, and impaled the soldier through the chest.

"Such power left untapped...Limitless potentials, Denton."

A new voice, one that he hadn't heard before...but it sounded deafly familiar. Who-

The gunfire from the other room ended abruptly.

He let out a strangled sigh, and went to go check on the others.

When he arrived, he saw that there was a bunch of dead troopers lying all around the room. Decker was sitting over Sandra, and she was groaning in pain. She had been shot in the shoulder.

"Crap...shit!" She cried as Decker attempted to clean it. He was completely focused on Sandra. JC picked up his assault gun, and reloaded it almost mechanically. The lower parts of his trench coat were stained in blood, some of it his own. He turned to face his two companions, when...he saw...a part of the _wall_ open up, to reveal to poorly dressed people, both women.

"Hurry inside, we'll cover you!" said one who was armed with an assault shotgun.

They both went out to cover the entrances. The one who covered JCs end grimaced visibly at the sight of so much blood. Decker helped Sandra inside, who was followed shortly by JC. The two women followed in after, and closed the door by using a switch. All around JC were people milling about a circular bunker. They had found the Silhouette hideout.

Decker and Sandra were attended to almost immediately. Sandra was given a large strap of cloth, and some medicine to contain the wound. Decker sat down abruptly next to her, and they hugged, both of them shaking.

JC ignored all offers of medical attention. He was probably more heavily wounded than both of his friends, but he didn't care.

"I want to see Chad."

* * *

President Mead looked up from the sewers he and his family were inside, saw light from the manhole covering. A Secret Service agent was busy up there, taking in the immediate surroundings.

"I wanna go home, dad!" Sarah whined.

Mead lost his patience completely. An attempt had been made at his Presidency, and the entire US government for that matter, and all Sarah could worry about was her obnoxious friends.

"Sarah, honey?" he asked.

"What, DAD?"

"Shut up." he said simply.

Sarahs eyes widened, and finally the Secret Service agent called down to them, "Everything looks clear! The fighting's over."

"Oh...thank god." Rachel said. One by one, they all went up, and through the manhole. The President gasped as he took in the destruction all around him. Bodies of US soldiers and civilians alike were strewn about, as well as hundreds more black suited soldiers that had attacked the city. Two military bots approached them, followed by soldiers, thankfully of his own allegiance. They saluted.

"I need to see your commander, ah, where?" Mead asked confusedly. His mind was clouded.

"At the outskirts of the city, Sir!"

"Where, exactly?" Mead asked, sighing.

"Um, don't know." The other one said.

Mead sighed again, and looked around at the smoldering city. He had survived...but what did it all mean?

* * *

Walton Simons sighed heavily behind his desk in the New York FEMA office. He had left Washington the second the US army began to bombard the city. The MJ-12 forces there were completely eradicated, destroying any chances they had at securing Area 51. All they needed was control of the government, and the US army wouldn't do a damn thing when they began the final stages of the project. But the government had survived. Page had been furious, of course, but he didn't seem too surprised. Walton himself found that he didn't care one way or another. They would have to take Area 51 by themselves, after all.

But for now he was here doing what he hated most. Nothing. No paper work, cause everything was being focused on the damn coup, and no orders to be given. Hell, there were only three people in the building, aside from the Cleaner Bots. He found his thoughts drifting over to JC Denton. The Icarus AI was already beginning to have the desired effect they had excepted over JCs paranoid mind, but that was basically its second priority. What they needed was for Daedalus and Icarus to come into direct contact. But first they had to take care of JC...It was all a confusing mess.

Walton was getting more and more annoyed with everything that had been happening. Page was directing all of his attention to Icarus and Denton, and everyone else was busy with something at the moment. He, on the other hand, had nothing to do.

_Why do you even want the power, anyway? _Thought Walton. Power was only the reassurance of ones position over all. It meant nothing, as that power could easily be overthrown, given the right amount of time and resources. It meant getting rid of all the excitement. If Walton had been a king of old times, he would have gladly taken a throne. It meant that there would be excitement, and war. But...what Bob Page was intending to do transcended the ordinary measures of power. It was...ultimate control over all.

No excitement. No war. No action.

Walton pushed himself and his swivel chair away from the desk, and he stared up at the ceiling. That was it. He would wait for something to happen.

He would wait.

* * *

"Agent..."

Hela whirled around swiftly, and came face to face with Inspector Gabily. The terrorist she had been torturing through choking methods finally breathed, and collapsed to the floor, barely moving.

"What is it?"

Gabily frowned, looking around the chamber. It was nearly coated in blood. Only three hostages were left. He had a distinct feeling that more blood was going to be leaving their owner very shortly after he was finished talking with her.

"It's about Denton..."

She dropped her attention from the hostage completely and moved toward him, "What, where is he?"

"Well..."He scratched his chin, "He was here."

Hela stared at him coldly. "But..."

"..But...he got away. There was only one survivor, and he's delirious, now. Said there were tons of 'them.'"

Hela took this in carefully, "Where is he now?"

"Well, he decimated two full squads of troopers, and after that he...disappeared. The follow-up team couldn't find anything."

He hated being down here. Hunting terrorists was no where near his priority list, and certainly not hunting a super human who was capable of making battle hardened soldiers look like mere children. If he was heading in Bunker Three's direction...

"Goddamnit..." Hela said finally. Gabily concurred. She turned around swiftly, and seized the hostage again by the throat. With almost no effort, she crushed his bronchial pathways, and tossed him aside, where he suffocated.

"Find him." She said. "I want him dead. Do whatever it takes."

Gabily left immediately. He was _fine_ with giving orders.

* * *

JC moved past the wandering terrorists, and made his way in the direction of Chads room. On the way, a small child hailed him, and looked up at him curiously.

"Who are you?" He asked.

JC kneeled down, and said, "JC Denton, I'm here to help you."

The boy nodded absently, and looked back over to the entrance to the bunker fearfully, "Majestic Twelve took my mother prisoner."

_I can't even comprehend bringing a child into war against something many people don't even know exists..._JC thought. It was amazing to behold such a young child that knew so much, even if it was only probably the name.

"I'm sorry to hear that." JC said.

The boy nodded, "Chad said it's too dangerous to rescue her..."

"Well, I'm on my way to his room now. Maybe I can change his mind."

"I hope she's ok." The boy said, now looking at him again.

"Me too."

The boy left after that brief exchange, and JC continued into the innards of the bunker, eventually coming to Chads door. Many of the people here seemed to be at a loss for moral, especially when there were even children around. They all held their guns uncomfortably, as if dreading the thought of using them. It was an almost surreal change from the NSF terrorists.

He pushed the door open without knocking, and moved to the center of the room, which was decked out with a simple bed, and computer. There was also a humongous bookcase filled with the works of different philosophers, ranging from Plato, to Voltaire.

"I'm JC Denton." JC said simply to the man in front of him. He was black, and wore a green vest with poorly kept pants. His countenance was one of determination. JC could see why all of these men had gotten together in the first place.

"Chad Dumier, a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Denton." Chad said, in a cultured, sophisticated voice, running aside his poor condition. "So, you are the one who sent the signal? Saved us from le prison de fresnes, at least."

"Your men came just in time." JC said, "Thank you."

"Yes, they are competent, but in no way are warriors like the NSF. Half of my people retreated without firing a shot."

"How long can they hold off against MJ-12?"

"Only as long as they are unaware of our location, which is not very optimistic, I'm afraid. They're going to bring in Infrared sensors soon. Amazing how no one can stay hidden for long with the technology today..."

JC decided to put off the small talk, "I need your help. You know someone named Nicolette Duclare?"

The revolutionary smiled brightly, "Ah, Nicolette...yes. I know of her. Intimately. Why?"

"I need her help."

"Also a paranoiac, like the others, huh?" Chad smiled. JCs eyes narrowed behind his aviators. "I assume you need to find her mother?"

"Yes, but I heard that she was killed." JC said, recalling a news report from three months ago. He wasn't sure why Daedalus wanted to contact the last remaining family member.

"Indeed. She was a great woman. Helped us in many of our more financial endeavors. Her daughter, too." Chad said sadly, "Well, I can point you in the right direction to Nicolette...but I require something in return."

JC was reminded of Tracer Tongs "favors." God, nothing was ever free, was it?

He sighed, "Shoot."

"When the crack down began, a dozen of our men and women were captured. I want you to try and rescue them. As a show of trust, you understand?"

"Where are they?"

"Bunker Three, presumably. That's where MJ-12 is basing their operations from."

"How well guarded is it?" He wanted all the specifics before running into a potential death trap.

"Laser tripwires and drone guns, that much I know. I'd assume many troopers as well."

He thought it over for awhile. It would be no picnic...That much was certain. But he had to find Nicolette. It would best be done alone, and stealthily. Besides, he wanted to give the others a chance to rest.

"Alright...I'll do it."

"Thank you, Mr. Denton. If you can get them back, I'll be happy to help you find her."

He handed JC a nano-key, "Take it. It unlocks a blast door located near the hideout."

JC nodded, and left the room and then the bunker completely, but not before checking on the others. They were both asleep, and deserved it, too. He, of course, needed rest as well.

But, also of course, there was hardly any time for that.

* * *

Private Bovowitz sighed heavily as he sat near the entrance to Bunker Three. All day, he had stood there, and nothing had happened. He hated guard detail. It was a whole lotta nothing for the people the Brass thought were ill-suited for combat. Yeah, like that attitude was gonna help when someone attacked the bunker. He felt utterly bored, even when he knew that JC Denton was nearby. Like he was gonna show up, though. There were plenty of Commandos waltzing about, and even Agent Hela. The man would be dead before Bovowitz would even get a shot, and this pissed him off to no end.

Two years of training, and he wasn't even allowed to go out and hunt down rebels. He hated the way the higharchy worked in the Organization. The only good assignments went to Agents, not squads like in the good old days. And most of the Agents deserved to be put in four by four rooms with very small windows.

Altogether, the only exciting parts of the day were chasing rebels around, and hearing that Denton had demolished two ten man squads. And, yet again, he hardly believed it. He had heard it from his pal, Johnson, who always talked about how he had heard from another guy. Oldest trick in the book. He had told him to piss off, and go take a shower, because the guy smoked all the damn time. Had a nickname, too. Stinks.

Anyway, tomorrow they would still be here, and they would finish the job with Silhouette. Maybe then he'd finally see some action.

Twenty minutes passed, twenty boring minutes of listening to the Commandos clink around, and twenty minutes of listening to Alans sick jokes. Guy must have been born to necrophliacs or something...

"So, anyway, did you hear the one about-"

"No, and I don't want to." Bovowitz said.

"Great, so..." And it went on and on. They said he was born death, but he knew the bastard heard every word they said.

"I'm gonna go to the bathroom, take over for me?" Bovowitz asked.

"Yeah, sure." Alan replied.

Death...yeah right.

Bovowitz left, and went off in search of a good place to piss without anyone seeing. They couldn't even install decent port-a-potties even when they knew it was gonna be a week long stay. That's why the place smelled so bad. That, and the way Hela was treating the hostages. She had executed another soldier for shooting a hostage who was trying to escape, sadistic bitch. He sighed, and went off into the makeshift barracks, passing Helas command post. The barracks was just like he had left it. A few troops playing poker, some trying to get some sleep, the works. Hell, it even resembled a modern day barracks, if you ignored the presence of a skull lined wall. That, and the absence of a bathroom. He choose the best looking dog sized tunnel, and crawled in through it, ignoring the comments of his "friends."

He let his call to nature do its work, and sat there, hating the way things were going entirely. Insane commanders, putrid surroundings, death obsessed soldiers...How could it get any worse?

Gunfire erupted from the bunker entrance, loud enough to make him jump and hit his head on the ceiling. Everyone in the barracks started for the bunker, unslinging their weapons no doubt. He mentally reached for his own assault shotgun...and remembered that he had left it near the entrance. He would stay here. Yes, stay here.

The gunfire became more universal, until it sounded like the entire world was trying to shoot at one another. Then, the screams, and with them, the gunfire gradually became lesser and lesser. Was Silhouette attacking? Or...Or was it-

"AGHHHH!"

A death scream, and the last traces of gunfire ceased. A single set of steps continued to walk, amplified ten fold by the sudden absence of noise.

He would stay here.

* * *

Agent Hela turned on her visual enhancement, and saw Denton round the circular corner of the bunker, assault gun raised. About two dozen bodies draped the room, all still warm. How did he manage to do it! He must have gone through the rafter shaft near the laser trips! She had told Gabily to install lasers in there! The sorry bastard was probably lying in a pool of his own blood now. The two remaining hostages were sitting by idly. She took a step toward them, gun in hand...and though better of it. She had to deal with Denton, first.

The one man who had caused the Organization so much grief. He knew almost everything about them. She had heard the troopers talking of him having a head full of secrets. All she knew was that Simons wanted him dead. She would carry this out now. It was her directive.

She walked briskly out of the door, and nailed Denton in the face when he wasn't expecting someone else to show up. He recoiled, but dodged the kick she attempted on him. He moved backward quick, and observed her, taking in every detail of his opponent. The scene reminded Hela of those old Hollywood movies. But there would be no kung fu here.

She clicked her foot back twice in quick succession, and her skin became super re-enforced. Denton unleashed a barrage of bullets upon her, ones that she could not have dodged, but it made no difference. Her skin absorbed the offending objects, and spit the spent cases onto the floor. Hela took out her sawed off, and held it aft toward Denton. He rolled out of the way just as the pellets from the shotgun ejected from the barrel. With almost limitless grace, she whirled around and fired again, this time using her targeting implants to calculate the odds of which he had to dodge it. She fired again, and was rewarded with seeing Denton tossed back to the floor, the blast hitting him head on. His bullet proof vest probably absorbed much of the blast, but some of it managed to get into his skin. At any rate, it gave her the chance she needed to set up a killing shot. She deactivated her ballistic protection, and smiled.

Denton got up, as soon as her hand moved to the trigger, and dropped the assault rifle in favor of his magnum. Her shot went wide. Denton fired a single round as he strafed to the left, and it took her in the hip.

"Gah." She mumbled softly, even though she felt no pain. It was an involuntary response. A human response. This made her angry. She pumped the sawed off, and fired again. Denton rolled again, his movements becoming more and more quick. She advanced forward quickly as he got up, and kneed him in the chest. He breathed out hard, and whacked her in the head with his magnum. She was dazed, but did not let go. She punched him hard in the stomach. Denton ignored it, and head butted her. She finally recoiled, and Denton wrenched free. He placed the magnum barrel to her head.

"Die." He said through clenched teeth. She effortlessly batted the offending implement of death away, and shoved him to the ground. She aimed her shotgun point blank.

_What a clumsy move._

As she fired, she smirked to herself. All it took was a little coordination, and this man was nothing better than a human. With this blow, the nano-augmentation project would be scraped. She fired.

...and Denton used his assault rifle as a shield. It happened in the blink of an eye. The assault rifle sputtered, and suddenly began to fire rounds indiscriminately. The firing mechanism seemed to be stuck. Denton got up, advanced a few feet toward her, (all incredibly fast)and tossed the assault rifle into her face. She was too dumb struck to even blink, which went against all of her training...and programming. It twirled around in mid air...and the barrel faced her, right between the eyes.

About three rounds hit her in the head before the rifle twirled around again, but it didn't matter, because she was already dead.

* * *

JC dived away from the woman in black as she exploded into a million pieces, the trademark of all of her kind. He hit the ground, and shielded his ears from the deafening explosion. When he got back up, the ground around where she stood was littered with blood and small pieces of black cloth. He blankly registered that his assault rifle had been destroyed in the blast, and turned to the rest of the bunker, taking in the carnage he had wreaked upon the place. It had been so easy, and all the troopers so inexperienced. All he had to do was find a perch to sit on with the assault gun, and he went to work on everyone who had come within a few feet.

He picked up a dead troopers assault gun, and slung it around his chest. After that, he went further into the bunker, and extracted the two remaining hostages. Everyone else was very, very dead. He almost vomited when he beheld the gruesome sight. The two hostages didn't waste anytime, and ran out without a word. They didn't even follow his directions. JC followed them slowly, his mind muddled with thought.

_You are a Devil. A tool of destruction. You will never be anything more or less than a killing machine. Your emotions don't matter, because you were designed to be de-sensitized to all that you have done. _

He was reminded dully of what had happened at UNATCO HQ. All the men he had graduated with. They were all dead by his own hands. And at the time, he didn't care. It had been almost a chore. When it was so easy for him to take lives, he found that he didn't care about those lives he took.

_"And so you finally realize that which you have become."_ said Icarus,_ "There is no retribution for you. Only death."_

Death...all around. Even if it wasn't for him...and that revolved around him...was death.

Twenty minutes passed, and they finally got back to the bunker. All of the rebels turned to look as he arrived with only two hostages, leaving them to wonder what had happened to their loved ones.

JC was reminded of the little boy. Chad had told him about a dozen hostages had been taken. What were the odds?

Then, he heard a squeal of joy, and saw the female hostage and that same child embracing each other.

_You're wrong. I'll overcome this. I know what I am, despite what I do. _

As corny as it sounded, it was exactly what JC was going to attempt. From there on out, he would take everything he saw with a grain of salt. It wasn't just the killing. It was the politics. For now...his paranoia would come in handy.

At least in some cases, hopefully.

* * *


	28. Paris Part 3

_**Deus Ex: The Conspiracy**_

Chapter Twenty Eight: Paris, Part 3

JC stumbled half-heartedly into Chads room, and grunted. He felt exhausted after getting the hostages out the Majestic Twelve bunker, so he simply collapsed against the wall. Chad rushed over to the nano-aug, dropping his book on the floor. It touched the concrete with a soft "thump."

"Are you alright? What happened?" Chad asked.

"No, I'm fine. Just tired. I saved the hostages."

Chad instantly forgot about JCs well-being and grinned, "Wonderful! How many?"

"Just two."

Chads countenance darkened, the original light he'd sported seemed to drain from his face. "There...were twelve."

"Those were the only two when I got there. The rest of them were...very, very dead." JC cringed inwardly at his simple, but powerful description of the carnage. His own little holocaust at the bunker didn't even eclipse that. That female agent deserved worse than she got...

Chad sighed, "Then there was nothing we could do. We must be grateful for those that survived."

"Everyone else seems to be." JC said. He heard slight cheering from outside.

"Yes, indeed." Chad said absently, still contemplating the carnage JC hadn't needed to describe in depth. JC got up, and dusted himself off, annoyed with himself for letting his fatigue get the best of him. "Now then, about our deal."

"Yes, of course. You wanted to find Nicolette?"

"Yeah." JC acknowledged.

"You might catch her at the Door To Hell. "

JC goggled. "The what?"

"The Door to Hell. It's a bar in the Champs Elysses." Chad explained, "I try to explain to her that it's not safe, but she doesn't want to listen, not since her mother died."

"What is it, a Silhouette hangout?" JC asked.

"Among other things. You can't get there normally, though. The roads are blocked."

"What about the Catacombs?"

"Hmm...maybe, but I doubt they extend that far. You might have to travel up to street level first."

And Paris under Martial Law...Just great. JC thought.

"Alright," JC said, "You've been a great help, Chad. I hope you can repel the crackdown."

"With their MJ-12 base in the Catacombs out of the picture, I think we can finally get out of here." Chad said. He didn't have to ask if JC had spared the bunker occupants, sans the hostages. "Good luck, Mr. Denton."

"You too." JC said, and he left the room. The two hostages he had saved were busy being treated for their wounds, a crowd of rebels around them. Decker and Sandra were off in a corner, playing solitaire, the cards probably lent to them by a Silhouette member.

"Hey JC." They both said at the exact same time. They both laughed at this. JCs eyes narrowed slightly, "You two alright?"

"Yeah, "Sandra said, regarding her bandaged arm. Decker concurred quietly.

JC grunted, and started for the door, "Then let's go. We gotta find DuClare."

Decker sighed, and went for his rucksack, while Sandra went over to a rebel, and handed the deck of cars to her. A minute later, the three of them were back in the tunnels, and headed for the sewers.

* * *

"An interesting development, Mr. Page."

Page ran his hand through his hair briefly, and turned to the Icarus Monitoring Station.

A holo-vision pad played in the background, showing scenes of destruction and carnage at Washington DC. This was where the secondary Echelon IV routing station was, high atop the VersaLife building in Paris. More specifically, it was where the Icarus AI was based. With this he was able to see directly into Dentons eyes, calculate his brain wavelengths, and monitor his health. It made Page almost giddy inside to know that Dentons deepest fear was being met in every way possible, and he hardly even knew it. He knew exactly where Denton was going, and what he intended to do.

He was more than a little pissed however, at the death of his finest agent. Hela had been killed. It was a serious blow to the Series P agent system. Seventy five flawless assignments, and she had been killed by Denton, whom was still technically a rookie, though that term and Denton simply did not mix at this point and juncture.

The Icarus AI waited patiently for its masters response. It was designed to be fear invoking, but loyal. This feature was pretty much what differentiated itself from the original Daedalus AI. Daedalus was full of bugs...unlike Icarus, of course. It didn't even have an avatar originally, which it provided for itself, a silhouette of a face surrounded by static. Icarus was also more...preferable. The technicians liked working with it. It had a personality, whereas Daedalus simply gave directives and followed them.

Normally Page would have not condoned putting a personality into a computer, but Icarus was designed to follow directives to the letter. If it even contemplated betrayal, Page would know.

He sipped briefly at the wine provided to him, illuminated to look red by the flashing monitors, and toggled the "speak" button.

"Yes?"

"I have discovered something in the Parisian vicinity." Icarus said at once.

There was a brief silence.

"Well?" Page asked.

"I apologize. I have found something that may interest you."

This, this was what got on Pages nerves, actually. The beating around the bush! "WHAT!" He flared.

"I apologize. I have found your former agent, Erica Dalton."

Vixen...The double crossing bitch.

"In Paris?"

"Yes."

"Doing what?" Page pressed.

"I have monitored her for some time, "Icarus admitted, "I discovered her on the Champs Elyesses, talking to ex UNATCO employee, Jaime Reyes. She then talked to a young woman, identified as Nicolette DuClare. She is currently inside Flat 14, a weapons smugglers apartment. "

There was a very long silence. Page opened his mouth several times, closed it, and made slightly pathetic noises as if having difficulty breathing. In the last ten seconds, the current most powerful artificial intelligence in the world had recited the names of four criminals, the majority being orange level priority terrorists, like it had been reading a weather forecast.

It wasn't even the tone that really got to Page. It was...the fact that it had hidden the information from him until it _decided_ to reveal it.

He opened his mouth again to reprimand the stupid AI, the bastardized Daedalus, a foolish _thing_ for ever THINKING of playing games with Bob Page...and closed it again. There must have been a personal incentive for the AI to do that. Something didn't quite fit.

"Icarus, besides observing Agent Vixen, what have you been doing?" Page asked.

"I have been observing JC Denton, Mr. Page. I have been making him miserable, like you have asked. I _like_ making him miserable. Just as you have asked."

So...it put everything else second fiddle to JC...Was it his mission...or was it true? Did it like watching him?

"Icarus, send the closest agent to that weapon smugglers apartment."

"That would be S-02, or Gunther Hermann.'

"Whatever, do it."

He turned from the control board, and rushed out to tell Simons what he had found. There was going to be a change of plans, after all.

* * *

Vixen looked around the weapons dealers' apartment, and sighed dismally. It certainly wasn't what she was used to, but then again, she had been sleeping in some pretty rough places for the last few days. A dry, crinkly beige wallpaper draped the entirety of the room, coupled with a small bed, annoying dog, and a wall filled with hung up rifles. She put down her bags next to the bed, and went to wash her hands.

"It is simple, but it shall do, no?" said Jean Pierre from behind. He wore a fancy suit, in contrast to his middle class surroundings, and a very fake mustache."Erm, where will you sleep?"The man asked. Vixen imagined he was looking at his bed longingly, at the time.

"I brought a sleeping bag." Vixen called, looking at herself in the mirror. As an after thought, she added; "I'm putting it in the living room."

"Yes, yes, of course." Came a rather disappointed response.

Vixen rolled her eyes, and stared into the mirror. Her blue eyes were still cold looking, like the last time she had stared into them. Her hair was still slightly dirty, like the last time. Yes, not much had changed.

Her mission was done. She had fulfilled all of her parameters, but she wasn't allowed back to Everett's place until the next day. Plus, there was a chance she might not even _go_ back at all, provided if and when Denton arrived. She sighed. She hated him so much, if only for making her feel small, and insignificant. There was really no personal reason why she despised him. And now she would have to work with him...again. And she knew it wouldn't last...it never would. Everett was a big ball of charisma and charm, but she knew he was just like Bob Page. Or would be.

She turned from the mirror, and went into the bedroom again, watching the smuggler out of the corner of her eye. He was a crook. Plain and simple. But he was the only one stupid enough to trust.

"I'm gonna go out." Vixen said. "I don't know when I'll be back."

She wanted to take a walk. She wanted to look at things in perspective. She wanted someone to try and tell her to get off the streets...She wanted a drink.

"Alright...I'll still be here..." The smuggler said in what sounded like a seducing tone.

_Of course you will, you idiot. It's your own home._

She walked out the door without a second glance, and descended the green lit stairs. The sky was dark and cloudy, a military robot lumbered down the street. She'd have to stay away from it. A cop had boasted to her that they were programmed with the faces of over three thousand terrorists, the majority of which were shoot on sight priority. She had no doubt that she was part of such a list.

She walked down onto the street level, and rounded the corner of the hostel, away from the bot. As she passed the hostel, she grimaced slightly, feeling for a drink. She went inside, coming into a wood lined lobby, the receptionist behind a computer screen, browsing websites. A metrocop paced around, assault shotgun held rigidly in his hands. He looked at her almost accusingly as she crossed the room, and to the main desk.

"We're all full, tonight." The man said before she even got there.

"I'm sorry, is there a bar around?"

"To your left." He said boredly.

"Thank you."

She turned and went down the hall, going around a corner, and came upon the bar, which was more shaped like a mini-restaurant than, well, an actual bar. Two men and a bartender were its only occupants. A man in a white suit, talking elatedly with a mech. The bartender polished a glass quietly, looking over at Vixen. She went over to him, and smiled, putting on her sweet face. Hopefully he wasn't immune.

"Hey there, can I get a drink?"

"Thirty credits." He said neutrally.

Vixen cursed in her thoughts. She grumbled noisily, and paid the sum, taking a wine. The bartender smirked, and went back to polishing. The men behind her laughed. Whether it was because of a stupid joke, or her own misfortune, she did not know.

She stayed there for awhile, drinking slowly. She remembered her inebriation at the Lucky Money, and grimaced slightly. Didn't want to get caught off guard again.

Something big was going on, and here she was drinking. It wasn't that she wanted to be part of it, on the contrary, she would have rathered she'd stayed home that evening...that evening.

_I should have never left...but they were all so hungry. I've never seen them again._

Two ancient conspiracies, the Illuminati, and MJ-12. She was merely a pawn. She despised being a pawn...maybe that was why she was changing sides so much. It was basic human instinct. To be on the side that seemed more likely to win. Why was she so foolish?

What about Denton? Was he like this? Or was he an even greater enigma than everything else combined? It was all so confusing...

She looked over behind her back, and saw that the man in white was staring at her. Upon realizing this, he quickly turned back to his mech companion. She observed him for a time, knowing that he knew that she was watching him, too. He seemed...interested. But not like Jean Pierre had been interested. This was more...business like.

She turned away at that thought. No. She wouldn't get involved in anything else tonight. She took a pull on her drink.

"Excuse me, miss?" Said a voice, finally. She knew it belonged to the white clothed man.

"Yes?" She said. She turned around, and saw that both men were staring at her.

"Would you please come over, for a moment?" Said the man.

The mech stared at her rigidly. She brought her drink over, and approached their table.

"Sit down." The man in white said.

She sat down, drink held still. Its cold touch numbed her hand.

"You're late." The man whispered, leaning over the table.

Vixen kept her face completely neutral, "Sorry, I had to do a few things."

"You said you would come right away!"

"Sorry." She said again.

"Bah." The man said. He lit up a cigarette, and offered one to her. She deflected it absent mindedly. "You know what to do, correct?"

"Sorry, I'm rather tired; care to go through it again?"

"Meh. The Bakery, building 15. It's owned by the Sicilians..."

"Ah, yes. And what do you want stolen, again?" She hoped that was what he had planned...

"The zyme, kept in their ovens. Remember the deal, a hundred credits a piece."

"Got'cha." Vixen said. This would be...fun. "Do you have a weapon?"

"I thought you were going to bring your-" The man goggled.

"Did you forget!" Vixen spat. She sighed, "I told you to get me some equipment."

"Ah...yes. Now I remember," The man frowned, looking as if he had just lost some sort of game, "I have a...silenced SMG."

"That'll do."

He slipped the weapon to Vixen across the table. She grinned, and took the implement of death.

"Get back here soon, they have patrols." The man said as she got up.

"I'm always careful."

She left the bar, and the frowning man in white. She welcomed what had happened. It took her mind of things. If he wanted something else stolen for the night...she would do it.

* * *

JC leaned down back through the manhole, and helped Decker, and Sandra up onto the streets from the sewers. It was the second time in the night he'd done that, he thought blankly. Further down the street he spied a military robot along with a compliment of MJ-12 soldiers. They'd have to stay away from there.

"Did I mention that I hate sewers?" Sandra said spitefully. Decker concurred with a slight laugh.

"Keep your head down." JC advised. "Some troopers down the road."

Sandra threw a look down the street, and she whimpered slightly at the sight of the nearby Bravo Three. She looked down the opposite side, and saw a similar sight.

"Um, we're cut off on both sides."

Decker gestured the sidewalks, and crisscrossing alleys.

"Oh, yeah." Sandra said, averting her eyes in annoyance.

JC looked down the other road as well, "She's right, though. We should stay off the streets."

On this note, the trio stepped onto the sidewalk, and down an alley filled with burning barrels. A lone man stood with his back against the wall of a building, smoking a cigarette.

"Can I ask you a question?" JC asked, tapping him on the shoulder. The man turned, put out his cigarette, and said, "I'm not paid to advise tourists."

"Take it easy." JC said, doing his best to seem friendly, "I was looking for Nicolette DuClare, do you know her?"

"I have no dealings with Miss DuClare. I sweep the streets. That is my life." On saying this, he eyed his broom suddenly. It occurred to JC that he was probably taking an unauthorized break.

"But you know her, right? Where would you think she'd be at this hour?"

"That private club, for rich phonies! The Door to Hell." He spat at saying this. "Number 13...appropriate number."

"Ok...thanks." That pretty much confirmed what Chad had suggested. He would go to the club next, in that case. He didn't want to be on the streets much longer.

The street sweeper stared him up and down. JC looked down at his tool belt, and saw that his lockpicks, which were usually concealed, were out in the open, "Er-"

"If you're looking for Renault, he's in at the bar, in the hostel."

JC frowned. He looked back and saw that Decker and Sandra were questioning a random passerby. He seemed on edge, and Sandra looked worried.

Turning back to the street sweeper, "What would I want with him?"

The street sweeper goggled, "You're not the one he was going to hire! The professional thief?"

"I'm flattered." JC said dryly.

"Enough, I'm going to look suspicious talking with you." He turned to leave. JC gripped him by the arm, and wheeled him back to face him, "What makes me look so suspicious?"

The man whimpered loudly, and took in a long breath. JC instantly clapped a hand over his mouth, which stopped him from screaming. He repeated his question, biting on every word.

"You're the man on the wanted list, I saw your picture!" The street sweeper hissed.

"Shit." JC muttered. That meant the Metro troopers would attack him on sight. He pressed the man against the wall, causing the broom to clatter noisily to the ground.

"If you tell anyone I was here, I'll kill you." JC said.

"Yes, of course!" The street sweeper sobbed.

JC let him go. The street sweeper ran down the alley, and rounded the corner, in the direction to the metro station.

"We gotta go." JC said, pulling Decker and Sandra away from their questioning. The man walked off quickly.

"What's going on, JC?" Sandra asked, "You nearly killed him."

"He's gonna get some troopers over here soon, we gotta take cover." He said.

They went past the corner, and came onto another part of the street. The hostel the street sweeper had spoken of was just down the street. JC led the other two in there, and shut the door behind him.

"We're full tonight." The receptionist sighed.

"Actually I wanted to visit the bar."

"We do?" Decker asked.

Sandra stepped on Deckers foot.

"Good. Leave me alone." He returned to his computer.

JC walked past the desk, and around the corner, coming into the bar. Most of the citizens seemed to be on edge, no doubt because of the country wide martial law. It was strange to see MJ-12 soldiers operating in plain sight, when it was such a discreet organization. Obviously the coup was more successful here than in America.

And as JC entered the bar, he saw the very last thing he had expected to find there. Jaime Reyes, sipping away at a wine glass. JC blinked. The infolink came on. It was Tracer; "Jaime Reyes called. He wants to meet you in a nearby hostel, says it's quite important."

"So I've seen." JC whispered.

"You're there, already?"

"Yeah."

"Well...talk to him!"

"I will!" JC hissed. Tracer grumbled and got off the line. He turned to Decker and Sandra. Decker, too, was gaping at the sight of seeing Jaime there.

"Get drinks." Was all JC said.

They both nodded, and proceeded over to the bartender.

"Thought you could run off for a weekend in Paris without me, eh?" Jaime smirked as JC took a seat. "It's great to see you, JC."

JC raised his eyebrows, "Call me nostalgic, but the nightlife seems to have lost its old charm."

"Yes, but I didn't trust anyone else to deliver this message, not Alex. Not even Tong." Jaime said.

"You've been in contact?"

"I stopped off in Paris to do some research into UNATCOs European Division. I've been in regular touch with Tracer."

"Good to know. What did you find out?" JC asked.

"Much, actually. I subbed in as a doctor in a UNATCO administration facility here in Paris. While no one was looking I hacked into their computer mainframe."

JC frowned at this, "You don't exactly strike me as a computer expert."

Jaime laughed softly, "Alex walked me through it."

"Go on, then." JC said, chuckling a small bit. Jaime rose a single brow at this action, but continued, "Paul was right. UNATCO's just a front. It was really shocking when I had the information right there in front of me..." He sighed, "Anyway, I got information that they're sending Gunther after you. He's around the Champs Elyeses, in fact. He's...really obssesed about it. I had no idea he could be that loyal."

"We've already met." JC said, "In Hong Kong."

"This time it's different. They're using some sort of advanced tracking system to locate you."

"Icarus..."

"Who?" Jaime asked.

"Nevermind, go on."

"You don't actually have to fight him, though."

"I'm prepared for a fight." JC said.

"UNATCO never trusted any of its own agents." Jaime went on, "You had the killswitchs. The mechs have 'kill-phrases.'"

"Kill-something's are standard issue, I gather." JC said dryly. He remembered Anna Navarre. "Yes, that's true. I used one to kill Anna." JC's own hatred for MJ-12 was great enough, but programs that instantaneously killed their own agents was abominable.

_How are you any different, though? You used exactly that sort of program to kill Anna. _

"Gunther's is "Laputun Machine". I dug that up as well." Jaime said.

JC snapped out of his thoughts, and nodded.

Jaime let out a very contented sigh, and sat back in his chair, like a great weight had been lifted off his chest. "You wouldn't believe what I had to go through to get all that. I was captured, you know. They told me I was a terrorist, and everything."

JC frowned, "That's news. How did you get out?"

"They didn't have me for long. In fact, I was being transported to a detention center in the country side with a number of other prisoners. This woman hijacked the truck, and let us all go. She told me to stay here and find you. She's definitely involved somehow."

_Vixen._

There was no other explanation. But why would she be attacking MJ-12 when she wanted to get back in arms with them? It didn't make sense. The world was too small for such coincidences.

"Are you alright JC?" Jaime asked.

"Yeah, I'm fine." He looked around the room, and saw Decker and Sandra sitting across from them at another table. Two men talking to each other at another table. He got up.

"Thanks, Jaime, really. Are you going anywhere?"

"Tong has arranged for me to be picked up by one of his aids, and taken to Hong Kong. You'll probably hear from me again."

"Ok. Take care of yourself." JC said, his mind still on Vixen.

Gunfire. From close by. JC whirled around. Jaime jumped two feet in the air.

"What the hell was that?" The mech aug at the other table exclaimed.

JC ran out of the bar, leaving everyone else behind. He opened the door, and looked around.

_Why bother? Go back inside, it's not your problem._

More gunshots. It was coming from the apartment nearby. As he looked at the door, he saw...

_Speak of the Devil_

Vixen was trying to open the door. Without thinking, JC walked calmly up the stairs, ignoring the continued gunfire. In a flash, Vixen turned swiftly, her silenced pistol in hand. JC did the same at the exact same moment, and the two former agents found each other pointing guns at each others heads again.

They stared into each others eyes for a moment. Vixen lowered her weapon, and returned to her task at the door. JC blinked.

"Help me with this."Vixen asked.

"Why?"

She already knew what he was talking about, "I've sold my soul to another group. Now help me with this door!"

JC activated his microfibrial muscle augmentation, and his arms swelled. With a single punch, he blew the door from its hinges. Vixen pointed her gun inside, and looked around. JC did the same, making sure he would be able to change his aim to her head in an instant. Inside the apartment was a mangled, badly burnt, badly shot up body. Blood pooled around the body, still leaking freely.

"Friend of yours?" JC asked.

"Not exactly. I was supposed to sleep here, though." She whispered.

Whoever had killed the poor man wasn't in sight. The windows were shot out, however. Vixen stepped into the room, and looked around. She then advanced into the bedroom. JC remained at the door. He wouldn't be caught off guard if this was a trap. He _wouldn't._

Vixen disappeared from sight. He heard her walking around in the apartment, still carefully. No sudden changes of movement. She appeared a moment later.

"Whoever it was came in through the window, and left through the window. I have a feeling that this wasn't a pure coincidence."

JC walked inside. The living room table was lined with weapons and ammunition. He took it, absently, and slipped another assault gun into his coat. "Why are you here, Vixen?"

She smiled grimly, "Always to the point, aren't you? I came because Morgan Everett wanted me to."

"The leader of the Illuminati."

"Yeah. I'm supposed to help you find Nicolette."

JC frowned, "That's bullshit, why can't you take me to him, then?"

Vixen looked down, and sighed, "I don't know where the bastard lives, either."

"How could you have met him, then?" JC asked.

"I was gassed, and taken there. THEN I was gassed, and brought from there, to right outside the Champs Elysese."

_A bigger paranoid than me..._JC thought.

"So we need Nicolette afterall."

"Yeah. I'm sure Everett has his own agenda for making sure of her location, though. He's really excited about all this. He wants to use that AI that's been talking in your head. The one called Daedalus."

"I see he's told you alot."

Vixen gave an exasperated sigh, "Can we go? I found her near here, but she got away before I could do any questioning. She's pretty elusive." She yawned, and stretched her arms out. In doing this, something fell from her pocket. It was a zyme vial.

She grimaced timidly, and kicked it away, "Don't ask."

JC rolled his eyes, "Let's go."

They walked out, Vixen first, then JC.

They were allies once again...but how long would it last?

Authors Note: Next chapter will probably be out just before the school year(Sept. 7.) I hope you enjoyed.


	29. The Door to Hell Nightclub

_**Deus Ex: The Conspiracy**_

Chapter Twenty Nine: The Door to Hell Nightclub

When they had gotten in front of the building, JC frowned at the sight of seeing a long line of people at the door, protected by a Delta Two security bot. It was spray painted with the logo of the club, "La Porte D'Lenfer." It advanced on flimsy bipedal legs toward them, and scanned them briefly. JC found himself holding his breath.

"Heavy armaments please conceal or face immediate eviction, or death."

"Relax, we're not planning on killing anyone." said Vixen.

"Not acceptable. Revise statement." The bot replied icily.

"We're just looking for someone." JC said.

"Identify this person."

"Erm, Kiegard Tarot." JC said, looking at a nearby poster that displayed the clubs owner.

The robot buzzed and beeped for a moment, "Acceptable. You may proceed."

The group edged further, and into the crowd, going inside a glass tunnel waiting area. Two metro cops flanked the perimeter, staring at the people.

"Christ, how popular is this place?" Asked Sandra.

"The Underworld was like this before Martial Law, didn't you know?" said Decker.

"I turned eighteen only a few days ago, and that was the only time Jordan was gonna let me in, so no." She scratched her head, "How old are you?"

"Twenty one," Decker said, sheepishly.

They both smiled at each other.

Vixen and JC were off towards the glass wall, making JC feel more than a bit uncomfortable. One, he wanted to be further inside, away from plain sight of the metro-troopers, and two, he _still_ didn't trust Vixen. He looked at her. She was staring off into space, smiling blankly. It seemed to have a mocking undertone. So at least it was pretty much known that they still hated one another. That much made JC feel slightly better, knowing that she would be predictable, at least.

"Long line, huh?" He finally said.

"I doubt we're going to get in." Vixen replied.

"What do you mean?" JC asked, looking at her.

"Watch. People are turning back."

Indeed, many people were weaving through the line, attempting to leave.

"What now?" JC said.

"There was a back entrance. Nicolette escaped through there. Locked the door, though."

"I can pick the lock." JC said.

"I'm going. Meet you there." Vixen said. She turned, and walked off into the crowd.

JC looked at Decker and Sandra, and said, "You two stay on line, and try to get in. If you can't, go in the backdoor." He turned to Decker, "You've got credits, right?"

"Yeah." He said.

"Good, I'll see you later."

JC turned, and walked over to the end of the line, and waited there for a moment. He looked out into the street, taking in the surroundings. If not for the two Bravo Three military bots and plethora of MJ-12 troops patrolling, it would have looked normal. Nothing looked normal to him, anymore.

After a few seconds, he left the room, and went down the alley nearby. He passed the fallen broom of the street sweeper, and looked around. Several cigarette butts were sitting around the street now. It evidence enough that several troopers had come here looking for him. Frowning, he turned on his visual enhancement augmentation, and looked around. First the right side of the street. He saw the outlines of all the people on line, and multiple others elsewhere. Then he turned to the left, to the building right next to him. He very nearly screamed.

The silhouette of Gunther Hermann stood right there, in plain sight. His immediate impression was that he was right there, in front of him, out in the open. JC recoiled, and took out his magnum, pointing it at Gunther. No response from the mech. Then, JC realized something. The Mech has his back turned. He was talking to two MJ-12 troopers. In fact, he wasn't even on the street with him. He was inside the building. It was all deviously obvious to him now. JC stared at the mech for a good minute, and slowly backed away. If Gunther only knew he was right in back of him...JC turned around, and continued walking. He soon came up to the back door of the nightclub, where Vixen was waiting.

"Something wrong?" She asked.

He stared at her for a few seconds, "No, nothing."

It was bullshit, and she knew it. "Fine, pick the lock." She said at last.

JC took out a pick, and inserted it into the keyhole. He fished around for a hitch, and found one easily. The lock came off.

"Easy." JC said, stepping away. Vixen creaked the door open, and they went inside. Music instantly blared into their ears as they rounded the corridor, and soon they came into what looked like a VIP lounge. A bouncer eyed them both, but said nothing. They went into a side room, one with green carpeting, and spoke in hushed voices, "Let's split up. I'll check the upstairs, you the downstairs." Said Vixen.

"Alright." JC said. Vixen nodded silently, and stepped away. She stopped midway, and looked back, "You still don't trust me, do you?"

"I don't think I ever will." JC said simply.

"No...no, me neither."

She left.

* * *

Decker advanced slowly up in line as the doorman issued a price to the next person. 

"Outrageous! Why should I pay so much?"

The doorman snickered, "Pay up, or no entry."

The man steamed for a moment, "YOU JUST lost yourself a customer!"

"Then leave." The doorman smirked.

He left.

A bouncer cried, "Next!"

Decker and Sandra went up to the doorman.

"Four hundred credits, for you two." The man said boredly.

"Here." Decker said absently, paying up.

"Enjoy yourself."

Decker led Sandra inside, rounding a corner, and coming into the main club. It was packed with people. They were supposed to wait for JC or Vixen, but he didn't see why they didn't need have a good time first. It would be the first drink he'd had in ages. He had been a Lieutenant in the NSF, and he'd won the respect of his fellow soldiers by being intelligent, and loyal. Not to mention sociable. He remembered going out to drink with Young, Killlian, and Erin all the time...

This last thought put a frown on his face. Young and Killian were dead, and Erin a wreak. And it all left him on the constant brink of a nervous break down. The whole ambrosia situation tossed his life out the gutter. But...at least he was doing something now. He was gonna fight MJ-12 until their death, or his own. And being here brought him to Sandra. He loved her. He couldn't explain it, but he just loved her. It probably wouldn't even last long, but that was it.

"What was that all about?" Sandra asked.

"They were arguing over prices." Decker replied. God, he wanted to hug her.

She smiled, "Did we get a lower price?"

"Yeah, we did." He realized. "Want to get a drink?"

"I thought we were supposed to wait for JC." Sandra said.

"They'll find us, and we might as well spend our time on _something._"

"...Yeah, let's do that." Sandra said.

They weaved through the crowd, passing a platform that a nurse was dancing on, and looked around for a table to sit at.

"It's ok, we can stand!" Sandra shouted among the din of voices.

"Alright!" Decker returned.

Decker called out a waiter, and soon they were both holding drinks. They drank them in silence, surrounded on all sides by dancers and patrons.

"We oughta find JC." Sandra said finally.

Decker didn't want to go, but he knew what was more important.

"Ok, let's go."

They left, Sandra first, then Decker. He wanted so badly to hold her.

* * *

Leila Nassif sighed contentedly, staring around at the splendor in front of her. Dozens of wriggling bodies, dancing, drinking, talking, doing anything. It was truly an alien sight, to her. She was hunched over a book, and tea, not skimpily dressed like some of the others, and certainly not as drunk as most of them. The books title was, "Opposing View-Points: Nano-Technology." 

Sure, they had this sort of stuff in Cairo, but she had never been allowed to actually visit them. She had always been trained up to be a dainty, upper class girl. Always worship, always say please and thank you, the works. Never did she ever think she'd be a beginning student in Nano-Biology, the least understood science in the world. It was weird. She was here on leave from Oxford University, where she had gone to study, and she didn't even want to enjoy the nightlife. She was content simply watching.

She had to admit, though, that the people sure were wiled up over the declaration of Martial law, and she was actually beginning to think she was one of the only tourists in Paris. It was as if she entered an alternate dimension when she stepped into La Porte' D'Lenfer. The citizens were completely on edge when she had visited the hotel, but in here everyone was mostly laidback, and even polite. The only deviation from this was the presence of several bouncers.

She took another sip at her drink, and returned to her book.

Two seconds later, she was surprised to see a man in a dark blue trench coat stumbled into the chair across from her. The man wore sunglasses, and she could see the outlines of several guns along his coat. Nassif yelped quietly, taken aback.

"What! What?" She said quickly in English, although she was fluent in French.

The man blinked, "Erm, sorry." He was American, in accent and language. He looked tired and angry, as if he's just been fighting.

"Who are you?" Nassif asked, automatically reverting to "polite" mode.

The man blinked again, "Eric." He sighed, "...Eric Denton."

"Leila Nassif, glad to know you." She stook her hand out, and shook his hand. Eric stared at her, but settled slowly into his seat. "Sorry, someone pushed me." He said.

"Nevermind that, you look tired, rest up a bit."

He said nothing, looking around at everyone else in the room.

"Want a drink?" Nassif tried again.

"That'd be_ perfect._" Eric said.

She quickly called up a waiter, and soon a wine was standing in front of Eric. He drank it gratefully.

"Why are you wearing sunglasses? It's rather dark in here."

"My vision is-er, damaged. I'm supposed to wear them."

She recognized his face from somewhere, and she didn't remember it being good. She shrugged, and returned to her book.

Eric stared at the title for a moment, "What side do you support?"

"It's a rather interesting subject, actually. Nano-technology is such an underrated science, and I just wanted to get everyone else's view on it." She said automatically, "Why?"

"I'm familiar with the subject."

He turned slightly. There were some odd blue tattoos on his temples.

_The wanted poster. His picture..._

Her eyes widened. He was a terrorist, wanted all over the western world, and here they were, talking science. Eric wasn't even his real name, it was JC Denton.

"What do YOU think of it?" He asked.

_Play with it, don't do anything suspicious._ She was starting to fear for her life.

"I'm a beginning student in nano-biology, Oxford."

"You DO sound British."JC remarked.

"I was born in Egypt, actually."

He nodded, and took a drink from his wine. Then, he leaned forward, "What would you say if I told you that I was superhuman, enhanced with nanites in my muscles, bones, and blood?"

Well, she hadn't been expecting _that._ It was preposterous, of course.

"I would tell you that you're a terrorist, wanted all over Europe."

He nodded silently, "And what would you say if I told you that was a lie, and the United Nations is being run by a cabal of conspirators hell-bent on ruling the world?"

Nassif stared at him for a moment, "I would tell you...that you're mad."

"Good, and the troopers outside at the metro. They're the paramilitary forces for this conspiracy."

Something was off. The man was mellow, not...crazy sounding. It sounded as if he didn't really want to believe what he was saying himself. And what of the troopers? The black suited ones. She'd over-heard a couple talking of their son, a group called Majestic Twelve.

Leila looked at him, again, "I would ask if they're called Majestic Twelve."

"I would say that they were, and that they're an off-shoot of the Illuminati."

She nodded, looking down into her coffee. The mans claims, while almost blatantly fake sounding, were...strangely compelling.

"I would ask if you're telling the truth."

"I would say, 'how could you tell I'm not?'"

Nassif decided to drop the bullshit, "Are you telling the truth?"

"Yes. These tattoos, they told you that they were just that, tattoos, right?"

"Yes, that was on the news bulletin."

"Touch them."

She leaned forward, fearlessly, and touched one of the blue bands on his head. It seemed to stick out, from the rest of the skin. She went back, almost dumbfounded. Why would he tell her, was it the book?

Nassif stared at him.

"Tell me all about it."

* * *

_Stop...hurting me...It hurts._

_**I have found you. Run while you can.**_

* * *

Vixen sighed to herself as she walked down the stairs of the nightclub. No luck, no Nicolette, no nothing. She suspected that the little rat was hiding from her, so she was trying to find JC. As she cleared the stairs, a lady looked at her and said, "Have a light?" 

"I don't smoke," Vixen said, already dreading the conversation ahead. "I'm sorta busy."

The woman cursed softly, and got right to the point, "Hey, can I ask a favor? I'm outta money. Any spare chits?"

Vixen snorted, "How'd you get in, then?"

"My friends work here." The woman said quickly.

"Then you must know all about the place." V continued.

"Oh yes, I used to work here. In the office. I can tell you the code to the store room in the back, if you want."

"What would I want back there?"

"Well, I see you have a machine gun," The woman replied smartly, "And that's where the bouncers load up. 200 credits?"

Vixen scratched her chin, "Sure." Why the hell not? She forked over a chit. The woman transferred it to her credit keeping device, and handed the empty chit back to V.

"So?"

"It's just inside the VIP lounge, the code is 1966."

"Thanks." She frowned, "Do you know of a Nicolette DuClare?"

The womans countenance grew worried, "I don't want to get mixed up in _that._ I stay out of peoples business."

"Yeah, well you just gave me the code to an ammo storage." Vixen said, "I'd say that's interfering with someones business."

The woman flustered momentarily, "Yes, well, this is different. You know how they used to run down the street with scissors and cut off the street cop's ties? Always calling attention to themselves. That sort of thing."

"You mean Silhouette? I thought they were trying to save France?"

"Funny way of doing it. And pretty dangerous. Once people know who you are, you can be killed. Just like that. Like Nicolettes mother." She turned, "Enough, I'm not saying her name again!"

She walked right off into the crowd.

_Damn._ V thought as she turned, and went behind the bar, heading for the VIP lounge. She turned, and saw a door with a keypad nearby. Entering the code, the door creaked open.

As she gathered the ammo inside, she grew more and more annoyed with how things were going. No one seemed to want to give them information.

When she was done with the place, she left, and went to look for JC. Oddly enough, she found him talking to a woman in a blue dress.

"It works a lot like a battery. I have a mental indicator telling me how much longer the nanites can be supplied with energy. When I lose that energy, they're too weak to go on, and I can't use the augmentations."

"I didn't know they were capable of endowing humans with super strength..."

"It's a very versatile technology, that's what I learned in my classes back at the academy."

"JC?" Vixen said.

JC jumped slightly, as if someone had screamed in his ear, "V?"

The lady across from him cocked an eyebrow at that word.

"Who's your friend?"

"Leila Nassif." The lady said, "Do you know Eric?"

This threw V for a loop for a moment. Then she realized, _Of course he has an ordinary name. Just like me._

"I'm Erica Dalton, " V said with a smile, "What were you talking about?"

"Nano-technology," Nassif said, "Very interesting subject."

"Did you need me?" JC asked, looking at V.

"Yeah, sorry to interrupt, but we gotta go."

"Yeah, lost track of time." He looked at Leila as he got up, "Do you have a net address?"

"Erm, yes, I'll have someone in touch, soon."

"Goodbye."

JC murmured an agreement, and followed Vixen to the stairs.

"What did you tell her?" Vixen asked, not looking at JC.

"Nano-technology."

"In other words, about yourself?"

"Yes."

Vixen closed her eyes, "I have no problems with that, but Everett might. He did start the technology, after all."

"She'll be fine. I'll have Alex get in touch with her."

They were silent for awhile, going up the stairs.

"So...?" JC said.

"Nicolette? Didn't find her."

"Someone hinted that she might be upstairs." JC said.

"I checked up here."

They got to the top of the stairs, and Vixen suddenly noticed a room she hadn't seen before. A large mirrored dance floor, with one dancer and...Nicolette DuClare."

"That's her." Vixen said, goggling over how she hadn't noticed this room before.

"I'll take care of it, you stay behind."

She stayed behind, fuming. She guessed that if JC had the ability to smile right then, he would have.

* * *

JC walked over to the table, and saw the young woman perched there tense up as he approached. He intended to play dumb, at least at first. His conversation with Leila Nassif had put some high spirits inside of him. She was a woman who was not entirely closed up to what the government had told her, and she was immensely interested in what he had to say. He felt uncharacteristically happy, in fact. 

The woman was wearing a mostly pink outfit, with gothic decoration all around. Her...more vital areas were not entirely covered up, as well. She had a cynical smile on her face as he came up to her.

"I'm looking for Nicolette DuClare." JC said as he got up to her. He stood at a neutral distance.

Nicolette smiled, knowing that JC was fully aware of her true identity. "So?"

"Do you know her?"

"I know of her. I know that her mother used to call her 'angel.'"

"It's a friend of her mothers I have to find." JC continued.

"Angel..." Nicolette said, looking off into the mirror, watching her reflection peel off into two different directions. JC looked that way too. He saw a tattoo on her back this way. It was an eye, at the top of a pyramid. "That would make her a fallen angel, now wouldn't it? You must be after Everett."

"Yes." JC nodded.

Nicolette nodded as well, understanding, "What makes you think Nicolette would betray one of her mother's closest friends?"

"I helped her friends from Silhouette. Chad will vouch for me. I'm after the people who murdered her mother."

"You are an assassin, or something?"

"When necessary." JC said.

Nicolette sipped her drink, "Go out behind the club. I will talk to Nicolette and perhaps she will meet you there. You will meet her alone, of course."

"I see." JC said, "Tell her thanks."

He walked back over to Vixen, who was standing in the shadows near the entrance. "Go find Decker and Sandra. I'll be outside behind the club."

"You arranged a meeting?" Vixen asked.

"Yes, now go."

V nodded, and ran down the stairs. JC waited for her to get out of sight, and he started off down there as well...when a pair of hands grasped him on the shoulder.

"Ah, yes, you're the person who wanted to see me, yes?" said a cultured, but hopelessly inebriated voice.

JC turned around, and looked into the eyes of Kiegard Tarot. The owner of the club.

"Jonathan clued me in, that's what we call the charming Delta Two outside, please join me."

_Holy..._

JC said nothing, and clocked the man in the face. He smiled goofily, and dropped like a sack of bricks.

JC grunted, and hid the unconscious body in the shadows, then headed downstairs, feeling better than ever.

* * *

Five minutes later, JC was behind the club, staring at Nicolette as she stood alone in the darkness. 

"Hello Nicolette." JC said.

She nodded silently, "I will help you only to make trouble for Majestic Twelve. It's true; They killed my mother."

"Why?" JC asked, although he already had a rough idea.

She smiled sadly, "She was and Illuminatus. The only people MJ-12 has ever feared are the Illuminati."

"Stanton Dowd said they had fallen from power."

She cocked her head, "How do you know Dowd?"

"We met up in New York."JC explained.

"A trusted friend of my mothers...Yes, the Illuminati are wiped out, but Page still fears Everett."

"But where do we find him?"

"One of my mothers many secrets..." She never gave a straight answer. "We'll have to look in my family's chateau."

"What will we find there?" JC asked.

"I'm not sure, but it will be something to behold, I'm willing to bet."

JC nodded, and called Jock over his infolink.

"Jock?" JC said. Nicolette stared at him with an odd expression on her face.

"Yeah?"

"I need you to set down, behind the club."

"Alright, be there in a minute."

The rest of JC's companions came out from behind the club. Nicolette looked at JC almost angrily, "I thought you were alone."

JC shrugged, "Forgot to mention it." He turned to everyone else, "Find a place to camp out, Jock'll be here in a minute."

Decker and Sandra moved off to the side of the building, and Vixen walked right over to Nicolette.

"Remember me?" V asked.

"Yes, I do." Nicolette responded just as icily.

"JC turned to Nicolette with a sigh, "How does Everett threaten Bob Page?"

"It is rather simple, really. Page was an Illuminatus, for him, intellect is the foundation of power. That would make Everett his most dangerous rival."

"But Everett's the one in hiding."

"Both the Illuminati and MJ-12 believe that the most intelligent, or "enlightened" human being will inevitably gain power, ultimately seizing the eye at the top of the Pyramid and creating a world for everyone else. Kind of like a secularized version of Natural Law."

It was exactly as JC had read in the UNATCO academy files on the Illuminati(sans the MJ-12 part), which of course had been said not to exist. It was all true, after all. It was bigger than he had thought.

"How did you find all this out?" Vixen asked.

"From my mother, Chad, and a little business of which is my own affair."

"Page has a trained army to protect him." JC said.

"He is still vulnerable. Much of his power comes from secret laboratories, the right person can reverse engineer his whole power base."

"That's a lot more difficult than it seems."JC said.

"Ditto." Vixen said.

"But, like I said, it all comes down to that one man, or woman. The only question is, who will seize power when he is done?"

There was a sudden rumbling noise from behind them, and all three looked over. It came from behind the wall of the hostel. There was a loud booming laughter that seemed to come from all around.

"Gunther!" JC cried out. He turned to look at Decker and Sandra, and as he did so, saw a black helicopter set down fifty feet away. A group of UNATCO troopers getting out confirmed that it was not Jock. They were, for all intents and purposes, surrounded. "RUN!" JC said.

Scanning around, JC saw another set of stairs heading to another apartment near the one Gunther had trashed. JC sprinted over there, Vixen in hot pursuit, along with the others. JC activated his microfibrial muscles, and charged through the door, blowing it completely off its hinges. JC came into a living room, lovingly furnished, and saw another stairwell nearby. A woman in a pink sweater looked out from the kitchen, and screamed when seeing the intruders that had entered her home.

"THIS IS YOUR FIRST AND FINAL WARNING DENTON, COME OUT WITH YOUR HANDS ABOVE YOUR HEAD!" A young voice, on a megaphone, reminiscent of every UNATCO trooper JC had ever seen. Someone who didn't know what he was really doing. Someone who was probably about to die.

"Oh, my lord, they're criminals!" The woman screamed, retreating back into the kitchen.

"YOU ARE SURROUNDED. WE'RE GIVING YOU TEN SECONDS TO COMPLY BEFORE WE HIT THE PLACE."

Sandra kicked the door closed, and brought out her pistol automatically, Decker doing the same with an MP7.

"Where are they, Agent Hermann?"

"Inside the living room."

"Thanks."

"We've got to keep moving, "Nicolette stated.

"Right, go, go!" JC said.

They moved up the stairs JC had noted earlier, and came into another living room, several entry ways marking other rooms.

"Split up until you find a way out." JC barked.

He snapped at Vixen, "Come with me."

She shrugged and started off with him, running around the apartment, guns drawn.

"You think now that they're here I'll go to the other side?" V said.

"Yes." JC replied, truthly.

He pushed open a door, and came onto a balcony, overlooking the streets, facing away from the UNATCO blockade. Looking up, he saw a terrace. He tested its weight by climbing up on it. It held perfectly, an easy access point to the roof.

"Get everyone over here."

Vixen nodded, and disappeared into the apartment again. JC went back to the railing, and looked over the side. Nothing. The streets were empty of activity.

Something crashed onto the balcony. Bits of concrete fell to the ground below as JC turned to face Gunther Hermann. He had came over the roof, a helicopter flying off of it.

JC quickly unholstered his magnum. Gunther brandished an assault rifle, strapped across his chest.

There were no words between them as JC tackled the mech to the railing pressing the magnum against his head. Gunther kneed JC in the stomach, a move that seemed to impale him. JC screamed as the large creation of humanity and steel pushed him off, and to the floor. He rolled as Gunther brought his elbow down in a forward arc, smashing it against the concrete. Now near the door, JC pivoted to the left and fired a few shots at Gunther, all of them hitting. The wounds failed to register in the UNATCO agents mind as he turned around, and pressed the assault rifle into JCs stomach.

The nano-aug activated ballistic protection just as Gunther fired, and he felt an almost overwhelming pain as round after round was absorbed by his skin. He rolled to the right, and Gunther continued firing for a moment before he realized his enemy had moved. JC kneeled over the railing, and vomited blood.

"You are a fast mouse." Gunther said darkly. He moved forward to pick JC up, and toss him over the railing. JC activated microfibrial muscle, and kicked out the railing from under him, causing both him and the UNATCO agent to fall out from it. JC turned just in time to grab hold of the balcony before plummeting. Gunther didn't. He fell silently and hit the concrete head on. He didn't move, but JC knew he was still alive.

He collapsed against what was left of the railing, coughing violently. He barely registered that he had activated regeneration.

Ten seconds later, Vixen and everyone else came in. JC was already back up, his wounds non-existent, but the pain still there. They were followed closely by UNATCO troopers. JC went up the terrace first, followed shortly by Sandra, then Decker. Nicolette and V took cover as a volley of lead came through the doorway. Nicolette took out a sawed off shotgun, and waited for a trooper to run through. One did just that, and she pointed the gun directly against his stomach. She fired, and blew much of his stomach contents to the pavement below, the lifeless body falling after it. She went up the terrace at that point.

V lingered for a moment longer, on the other side, and rolled to the terrace, another hail of lead following her. It missed. She climbed up, and onto the roof. They all stayed toward the middle, to avoid getting in the sights of any of the troopers. Jocks helicopter arrived a minute later, chain guns flaring. He picked out the group easily, and hovered over the side of the roof. They all jumped in, and Jock brought the craft into the air, again.

JC slumped against the window, staring down at the UNATCO troopers, who now resembled angry fire ants, running back and forth.

"Are you ok, JC?" Sandra asked.

He closed his eyes, shaken by how easily he could have died.

"I'm ok."

Nicolette turned to JC, and whispered in his ear, "I only want you to come into the Chateau."

"Why?"

"The only one of your group I marginally trust is you."

"Fine."

He got up, and went over to the co-pilots seat. Decker took this opportunity to sit next to Sandra. They hugged each other, warmly.

"Anything on the radar?" JC asked, turning on the sound barrier.

"No, " Jock said, "It's good to see you, JC. Tong say's he'll be in touch with you at the Chateau."

He looked at the radar screen again, "Some blips, but they're not gonna find us."

"Good to hear it." JC said. He laid down against the seat, and instantly fell asleep.

* * *

Tracer Tong sat idly in his lab, surrounded by a veil of darkness, disturbed only by flashing computer monitors. He continued to play the recording of the infolink back and forth, listening to Nicolette DuClare speak.

"...and will ultimately seize the Eye at the top of the Pyramid."

He coughed suddenly, and switched off the computer. So that was Everett's plan. It was as obvious in nature as Bob Pages strife for power. He stared at his hand, now pale in complexion. The Gray Death was a cruel thing indeed, and now it had him in its vice.

Everett walked through the lab, passing Pauls sleeping form, inside the meditation room. Dr. Moreau was busy at the monitor, infinitely happier with his surroundings than the MJ-12 base. Tong entered the processing room, and found Alex sleeping at the computer screen. He woke up as soon as Tong touched his shoulder.

"I have a job for you."

* * *


	30. The DuClare Chateau

_**The Conspiracy**_

Chapter Thirty: The DuClare Chateau.

Jock brought the helicopter around the seemingly abandoned estate with agile swiftness that could only come from a pilot like him. He printed an infra-red 3D map of the grounds, and chose an optimal landing spot. JC stirred silently next to him, probably earning well deserved sleep.

_Sleep...just about what I could use right now..._Jock thought. It wasn't a joke, like most of his inner thoughts. He was dead tired, and it took all of his concentration to stay awake and pilot the chopper at the same time. Flying super humans and their bands of merry men wasn't exactly what Jock would normally call a relaxing flight. But it was worth it. It would all be completely worth it in the long run. Paul had convinced him of this. He set the chopper in hover for a moment, more of an excuse to rest his hands then anything else. Sweat slowly dribbled from his brows, and down below his aviators. He smiled to no one in particular with his next thought.

_That...and a cold beer._ What else was new?

At least it was relatively safe now. All he had to do was fly, and hope he wouldn't get tailed. This didn't really matter, anyway, because he could out fly almost any pilot in the western hemisphere. No, this, in comparison with his Area 51 days and then work for Tracer Tong was like a gift from heaven. And he wasn't bored, either. History was about to be made, soon. Maybe then it would get dangerous.

He turned, and looked back at the other occupants of the chopper. JC was dead asleep, not even snoring. He didn't seem like the type that would, anyway. His mind was probably a mess. It would only get messier with Morgan Everett involved.

Vixen was asleep as well, curled up in the cargo compartment on an inflatable mat. Most likely provided by her newest benefactor. She was an enigma, her. JC constantly looked like he was trying to get inside her. See what was going on in her head. She seemed to be doing something similar to JC, too. Some minds, especially hers and JC's, were probably best left to themselves.

Sandra and Decker were in the seat right behind him, together in their arms. Their love for each other was pretty much blatant, no matter how much they both failed to acknowledge it to one another. In this case they were made for each other. Sandra was pretty optimistic since having been rid of Jojo, dampened slightly by the loss of her father. Meanwhile Decker was an emotional wreck. She was good for him, in that respect.

And Nicolette. Her eyes were open, clear as day. She was staring out into the silent abyss of night, a posture retained ever since they had left the Champs Elyeses'. She seemed almost indefatigable. Her mouth was set in a constant neutral expression, as if she was unaware of the world around her. She was a case Jock didn't feel like analyzing.

Jock switched his attention back to the matter at hand, and looked out at the chateau. It was a very large, classic Victorian manor, built by rich, for the rich. The roof was a set of four large cube like structures, sporting a brown color. He couldn't see the doors from his height, they were kept further on in, sheltered by the roof top. Large Gothic style windows marked the second floor, and plain, curtain draped ones on the first. There was, unsurprisingly, a hedge maze in the back.

Showtime.

He tapped JC on the shoulder, waking him instantly. He sat up quickly, casting a look out the window, then around the cabin. His eyes settled on the large estate, and nodded. Nicolette acknowledged with another nod. Jock lowered the chopper down several more feet. When he was almost to the ground, Nicolette sprung the hatch, and descended down to the pavement below, rolling to absorb the minor shock. She sprang up again, and stared up into the chopper, waiting for JC.

"Strange little one..." Jock observed, landing the chopper.

"Let's not talk about it." JC sighed.

This said, he got out from the co-pilots seat, and leapt from the hatch as well, his trench coat billowing in the wind, making him resemble some one hundred year old horror movie monster.

He hit the ground, and looked back up at the chopper. Jock toggled the infolink, "Looks clear. Call me when you need pickup."

He turned the chopper slightly, facing one of the windows. Behind the curtains, he could have sworn he had seen the dark silhouette of a face, but then it was gone.

JC watched the helicopter rise into the air, and its departure into the darkened mist. Jock informed him of the LZ's safety, so he kept his hands of his magnum holster.

He looked back at Nicolette, and saw her staring up at the large mansion. Her eyes betrayed her original uncaring nature. They were filled with sorrow, and regret, it seemed.

"I had not wanted to see this place again." She said.

"Why?"JC asked.

She chuckled slightly, oddly, "I was afraid it would be like this--the same. Not a stone out of place."

JC stared at it as well. It was the place where her mother had been killed. The buildings static integrity was probably only an excuse for not going in. "You would rather that Majestic Twelve had burned it down?"

She sighed, "I would rather...No, let's go. Only in novels do places crumble to dust for no reason, when their spirit is lost."

"Your mother?" JC asked.

She ignored that, "Follow me." She began to walk over to the front doors, a full thirty yards of cobble stone away, kept sheltered by the roof. He followed her, and noticed that there was a slight bounce to her step. She was nervous. JC realized that she was not as careful with her emotions as she thought she was. A tough nut to crack, but he was able to see right through the outer casing, and look at the real contents underneath.

The door was, as JC had predicted, and probably Nicolette too, locked. It was coded to accept only the nano-key assigned to it, and had special zappers in the keyhole that prevented foreign objects like lockpicks to enter. He took out his magnum.

"Watch out." He said. Nicolette backed up to the wall.

He shot the lock, and was rewarded only by seeing the round ricocheted off the metal, and into the ground below.

"Damn." He said, tonelessly.

"There's a back entrance." Nicolette said. She walked off in another direction, and rounded the corner. JC followed, replacing the gun back into his holster. As they walked, Nicolette began to talk aloud to him, in a way that wasn't expectant of an answer.

"My mother and I were no longer on speaking terms at the time of her death," she said, "I left home because she and her Illuminati cronies were always pushing me into things."

They rounded another corner of the mansion, nearing the hedge maze. "Crazy...I lost my virginity out here." she laughed slightly, "I believe mom was trying to get me into La' Sorbonne at the time."

JC frowned at this statement, not really having expected to hear it. "Who?" He suddenly found himself asking.

_Grow up, you're not in high school anymore._

_**Were you ever?**_

He shook his head slightly.

"Ah...ha..." She said, a half smile on her face, "It's a secret. You've met him, though, I think."

Chad. Things were beginning to make sense, now, with their connection to the Illuminati.

"Anyway, go on."

They continued walking, nearing the back entry. Nicolette continued on talking, "Anyway, I was a rotten student, but it didn't stop them from enrolling me in La' Sorbonne."

They reached the back entrance, and walked in through what looked like a garden shack. Old, derelict flowers hunched over dead in their respective pots. Nicolette sighed, "Mom and Everett used to sit out here, sipping martinis, and plotting to take over the world...That's how we all got into this mess."

JC wondered just how much Nicolette had known even when she was younger. Did her mother care that she knew about the conspiracy? He advanced a few feet, and saw that the back door was barred shut with several planks. He took out the Dragons Tooth, and slashed right through the barricade, taking the door with it. Nicolette only seemed to notice the glowing blade. "What...?"

"MJ-12 technology." JC said, withdrawing the blade.

"I should have known." She snorted. She walked over the broken wreckage of the door, and into the foyer. JC followed, and received a message from Tracer.

"Pulling up a floor plan...an old summer home built during the third republic. It's been vacant ever since Beth Duclares assassination."

JC felt the same tingling sensation in his neck as material was transmitted to his mental datavault. "Hopefully these elegant rooms contain some clues about the DuClare family's involvement with the Illuminati."

The foyer itself was expansive, with fine oak floors and a glass incased office near the front doors. JC walked down the steps, and looked around. A computer hummed silently on a red carpeted desk, as if awaiting someone to access it. He frowned. Something was odd about that.

Looking back, he saw Nicolette standing in the foyer, casting a glance around the room. She smiled when she set her eyes on a particular couch.

"My mom had that couch flown in from Portugal. Exactly the same she could have bought at La Samartaine, except that it had once been graced with the bottoms of a royal family." She went over, and sat down in it, a mocking countenance of daintiness and grace on her face.

JC turned back to the computer, and pressed the enter key. An Internet-3 login screen awaited. He checked the last login of BDuClare. Two hours ago. He whirled around, searching for an invisible assassin, lying in wait for the realization to come, but there was no such thing.

Someone else was in the house.

"Something wrong?" Nicolette asked, tapping the glass pane.

"We're not alone in here." JC muttered.

She took out her shotgun, "I thought as much. Come on, make haste. A good place to start would be my mother's bedroom." She gestured to the nearby staircase. JC began to think that she had seen more than enough action in her time.

They ran over to the stairwell, weapons drawn, and peaked around the corner of the wall. An empty set of stairs. JC ran up breathlessly, and pointed the gun down both halls, lightning fast. A door to the right, and another rounding corridor to the left.

He went to the door, and attempted to open it. It was locked rigidly. He reached for his lockpicks, when a hand went over to the keyhole, and inserted a nano-key. Nicolette stepped into the room, looking around.

"My little prison for eighteen years."

JC sighed, and put down his gun. The room was largely empty, with only a fireplace, bed, and two bed-side tables.

Nicolette walked straight over to the fireplace, and turned the skull that was on top. The structure retracted, and she bent down to pick up ammunition that was being hid there. JC went over to one of the tables, and took a key that was marked B-1. Whether that stood for Beth, or something else, he did not know. He looked back over to the fireplace hiding spot, and observed the contents. Most of it was, unsurprisingly, shotgun ammo. There were, however, two zyme bottles as well. He frowned, as Nicolette turned the skull again, and the fireplace settled back to its original position.

"Let's go." She said.

They walked out of the room, and went down the hallway.

"I don't suppose you have a key for your moms room?"

"Unfortunately, no." She said. They came to another door. JC tested the nano-key he'd found, and the door opened to reveal a bathroom. Damnit. He was about to turn away, but a shadow from further inside seemed to move. He hissed for Nicolette to stay put, and he advanced silently into the bathroom. The shadow stirred even more. Something organic, it had to be. He leapt out from behind the corner, and found...and empty room with nothing but a bathtub and sink. The medicine cabinet slammed shut, then opened again. It let out an almost mocking creak.

_"What are you looking for?"_

JC left the room, and went back out into the hall.

"What was it?" whispered Nicolette.

"Nothing...Just my imagination, I guess."

She sighed, and went further out through the hall.

"It's clear."

JC walked out, and came to a balcony, that overlooked the foyer. Nicolette was busy at a table, her hand inside a vase.

"What are you looking for?" JC asked. He paused, registering what he had just said. He shuddered.

Nicolette cursed, and seized the vase, tossing it to the floor. It shattered, revealing a nano-key underneath.

"Christ, this is like a video game." JC grumbled.

"No...This is as real as it gets." She said, picking up the key. She examined it, and smiled, "This is my mothers room key."

"Let's go, then."

She advanced further into the hall, and tried a door that JC couldn't see from where he was standing. It opened, and see disappeared inside. At that moment, he heard something come from down stairs. Suspecting another trick from Icarus, he leaned over the railing, and looked down. He caught a bare glimpse of something near the stairs, and then it was gone. It was so quick, he couldn't discern whether it had been his imagination or not. It had looked distinctly human.

He looked over to the hallway. He stared at that place for over a minute, until Nicolette asked where he was.

"Coming!" He shouted. He threw one last glance at the stairs, and went into Beth DuClares room. Nicolette was busy snooping around, checking in drawers and the like.

"What exactly are you looking for?" JC asked.

"Anything, clues, notebooks, a key..."

"Notebooks?" JC asked. Datacubes has virtually replaced all other methods of note keeping materials, and would probably soon encompass books and newspapers as well.

"My mother never trusted datacubes." Nicolette explained,"Don't you know that they're all traceable?"

JC blinked, "Er, no."

She stared at him for a moment, then returned back to her work, rolling her eyes. It made sense, anyway. It explained how the NSF were always so easily beaten into submission. He should have known, which made it so embarrassing. JC approached the other side of the room, and looked at the painting that hung over a cabinet, near the dumbwaiter It depicted an idylic countryside, by the water. Nicolette turned, and stared at it, her eyes filling with something that looked like sorrow. "Her favorite painting..." She touched it, feeling its surface, "I cannot believe the assassins did not take it. Oh...the hours she would spend just sitting there, looking at her priceless treasure."

JC bent over, and looked underneath the paintings frame. There was a small, almost un-seeable button there. He pressed it, and the painting swung upward, causing Nicolette to gape. Inside, in a hollow place, was a letter, with ink that was at least seven months old, if not more. And a key. Nicolette took the letter, and read it.

_"Dear Nicolette, at some point it may become necessary for you to access my _

_private records, and perhaps to... to do what you think best, given the _

_circumstances of my absence. You must understand how much I care for you, and _

_if I've not always done what might be considered right, I have always done _

_what I thought best for you and the others I've cared about; it is a cold _

_heart that does not have some regrets._

_Login: bduclare_

_Password: nicoangel_

_This is all I can leave to you; everything else I have already given. I love _

_you my daughter, and I trust you will make me proud. I am only sorry that I am _

_not here to see it._

_Beth"_

She sighed. JC made a move to comfort her, but remembered that he was terrible at those things. She looked at him, her expression one of coldness. JC took the key, and examined it. It read "C-1"

"Cellar." JC said.

"Down there, then." Nicolette sighed. "Let's go."

There was a sound like a wasp buzzing. A circular incision appeared in the window right next to them. A bullet struck the cabinet, several inches from Nicolettes mid-section.

JC seized Nicolette, and dived to the floor as another round pierced the window. She cursed, wrenched herself free of JC, and rolled to the side. JC took cover underneath the window. The door that they had entered through burst open, and an MJ-12 troop appeared, wielding a silenced MP7. Nicolette raised the shotgun. The trooper breathed in, not expecting this sort of event, and froze in place, dropping his gun. Nicolette fired, covering the wall behind the trooper in blood and gore. The trooper collapsed against the wall.

The other door burst open, and two MJ-12 troops rushed in. They were on top of the two rebels in a second, and one batted JC in the head with the butt of his gun. JC blinked. The trooper gasped. The nano-aug seized him, by the neck, and dragged him down. Meanwhile, Nicolette kicked the trooper in the stomach, and forced him into the dumbwaiter. She stabbed the "Down" button, and it, and the trooper, disappeared from sight. JC took the other trooper, and stuck his head up to the window. A sniper round tore away most of his skull. The body collapsed just as quick, giving the sniper no time to see just who he had killed. JC his vision enhancement, and picked out the snipers location. He found a target, a trooper, standing on top of the concrete wall. Two commandos were outside, running towards the back entrance. An MIB followed them. JC cursed silently, and fired his magnum in the general direction of the sniper. It caught him in the leg, causing him to lose his balance. He fell to the ground below, and did not move again.

JC turned around, and saw more troopers headed up the stairs. Chances were they were armed with grenades, to smoke them out. And if he activated his speed augmentation and went out the window, that would leave Nicolette alone.

Nicolette tapped him.

"What?" JC barked, keeping his eyes on the approaching assailants.

"The dumbwaiter, we can use to-"

She said enough, and he pressed the "Up" button. The platform came back up, missing the trooper Nicolette had put in there.

"You first." JC found himself saying.

She smirked at him, fully aware of the presence of more troopers bent on their extermination, "Chiviraly doesn't suit you."

"Go, damnit!"

She crouched into the dumbwaiter, and JC hit the down key.

Down she went. He waited for it to return, keeping an eye on both doors. He switched visual enhancement off, to conserve energy, and fished around his pockets. He found a LAM, activated it, and lobbed it into the hallway. A trooper arrived just as it came through. He raised his gun to shoot JC, then realized something had struck his leg. He then realized it was a grenade. He turned, and ran down the hall, in the opposite direction. The LAM exploded, decimating that portion of the hall. He heard the cracking of wood, and the floor collapse. The other parts of the hall sagged down slightly with this event. The dumbwaiter came back up, and JC got on. He waited a moment, then banged down hard on the platform. There was a pause, and it went down.

When he got down to the kitchen, he wasn't entirely surprised to see an MJ-12 trooper standing there. He had a gun pointed at Nicolettes head. She had her shotgun pointed at his comrades stomach. She looked at JC and smirked again.

"Drop the gun, or she dies." The trooper said. JC raised his magnum, with lightning grace, and fired. The trooper collapsed. Nicolette leveled half of the other troopers stomach.

There were no words between them as they jumped over the stairs, and down to the door. JC unlocked it, and they both ran inside. JC slammed the door shut, and re-locked it. The walls were covered with age-old bricks.

"What now?" Nicolette asked.

"Let's go further." JC said. They went on deeper into the cellar, past several barrels of wine. Further on, they found a tunnel, leading deep down into some unseen part of the cellar. A candlebra was pressed into the wall.

"What's this?" Nicolette said, "I don't remember this tunnel..."

"Jack pot." JC said. "Let's go." He did have to wonder why it was open, though. They went through. The construction changed to that of concrete and metal. A plack near the entrance read in french "Bunker-V-02."

Nicolette didn't notice it as they went further on, "What is this, some kind of dungeon?"

They through the room, and to another. There was a stairwell, leading up to a room with a single glass window. Blue flickering light emanated from it. Nicolette gasped, "This must be it."

They went up the stairs, past several rodents that had made their home there, and they reached the secret computer room. A large generator stood in the middle, with a three monitored computer station set up in front. Two cabinets flanked the window, filled with equipment of varying types.

"Oh my god..." Nicolette said.

Tracer Tong came in over the infolink, "A giant routing station, not on any telecom maps I've ever seen before. MJ-12 must have occupying it after Beth's assassination. You can use this place to send a transmission to Morgan Everett!" Tong realized.

This would dramatically shorten their search for the leader of the Illuminati, if not eliminate it completely. JC moved up to the computer, and typed in Beths username and password, while Nicolette wandered around the room, in awe over the equipment.

He checked the latest Net transmissions, and instantly found Everetts net access name. He quickly typed up a request for seeing him, and of course his own name. He stabbed the enter key. Then, he checked the latest e-mails. They were over four months old.

_From: MorganEverett?_

_To: BethDuClare/UnderNet.324.823.2_

_Subject: Final Message_

_CYPHERBLOCK_

_This will be our last communication over the Net. The so-called "Aquinas" _

_protocols that my old protégé and MJ12 have implemented are crude, but _

_effective -- much like my protégé. All future meetings will need to occur face _

_to face at a secure location. To expedite matters I will deliver to you a _

_"tear-sheet" chip: it will contain twenty codes and their corresponding keys. _

_Each code and key pair can be used once and then it will be permanently _

_erased. Each code will be tagged to one of our previously agreed upon meeting _

_locations and times. If one or the other of us should need to get in touch, _

_send a message using one of the codes -- the content of the message is _

_irrelevant, only the code used to encrypt it._

_I shouldn't need to point out that any attempt to tamper with the chip once it _

_has been installed will result in it being rendered useless._

_Best of luck -- to you and to us all,_

_Morgan_

That was the only one. He stepped away from the keyboard, deep in thought. All the conspiracy theories and talks he had heard from Leo Gold, Alex, and even Tong were all finally beginning to come together. He sighed, and got up. Almost instantly, his infolink signaled again, and a new, foreign voice came over the line.

"So you found Beth's computer." said Morgan Everett.

"Me and many other people have been wanting to speak with you." JC stated.

"I see that. My good friend, Dowd, has informed me of the situation. I couldn't be more obliged to help you."

Nicolette was giving JC a strange look, "Ok then, where can I find you?"

"That time will come soon." Everett said. "First, there is something you must know. A cathedral rests nearby. It has been taken over by MJ-12, and the computer they have installed there is linked up with the main MJ-12 computer network. With that information, we will have striked a serious blow against our mutual enemy, and we will have the final piece to creating a Gray Death vaccine. I believe you were seeking me out for that purpose?"

"Yes, me and everybody else, it seems."

"I'm sure you've already met with my agent, Vixen. She will be assisting you with this operation. Only you two, you understand."

JC nodded, acknowledging, but silently dreading what he had to do. "Alright..."

"Good. Find Nicolette. She will provide you with a key you need to get to the cathedral, through the hedge maze, and to the family crypt."

He cut out. JC went over to Nicolette, who was peering at him strangely, "JC, are you alright?"

He ignored the question, "Morgan has contacted me. He wants me to go through the crypt, to a nearby cathedral."

Nicolette frowned, "The Cathedral of the Knights Templar?"

JC frowned. The Knights Templar were an age old group, dating back to Medieval times. They had, supposedly, established much of the worlds primary banking system. "He didn't say. I'm supposed to access the MJ-12 computer network, to look for part of the cure to the Gray Death."

"Yes, MJ-12 controls the place now. They killed the Knights for their gold reserves. Everett must want you to that part of town through the sewers that connect with the cathedral."

"I thought the Templars vanished centuries ago." JC said.

"They invented the modern banking system and were its directors, under one name or another, until Majestic Twelve took it over."

"He said you had a key."

She fished around in her pockets, and produced a small nano-key. She handed it to him, "Listen to Everett. He is right to want to avenge the Templars."

JC looked out the window, "MJ-12 is still in the area..."

She brandished the shotgun again, "Then let's go."

Two minutes later, they had exited the bunker, and were in the kitchen again. JC edged out, step by step, into the dining room, and looked around, Nicolette in back. No one was around. He went over to the entrance to the foyer, and an MJ-12 trooper rushed into the room. JC kneed him in the chest, and clocked him in the face. He went down cold. Another trooper went past as well, and got elbowed in the back of the neck.

"Conflict, proceeding as discussed." said the same odd, slightly off voice of all MIBs.

A grenade was lobbed into the room. It bounced right next to JC, and Nicolette. She gasped.

"Window!" JC cried. He went over to the window, and dived through it, rolling to the grass below. Nicolette followed suit. They both got up, and ran around over to the the front doors. The LAM exploded a second later, but they were a safe distance away.

"Can't get a break." Nicolette huffed. She looked back over to the smoldering room, smoke billowing from the broken windows, "At least somethings changed..."

JC chuckled at this, and they continued their run around the house. When they reached the hedge maze, Nicolette sighed.

"What is it?" JC asked.

"You left that painting open, didn't you?"

"Erm, yeah." JC said.

She sighed, "I was so foolish...so sentimental."

"What is it!" JC snapped.

"I left the letter from mom in there...They're going to find it."

JC processed this for a moment, "...Fuck." That would definitely compromise Everetts IP address. One thing could then lead to another...

"Well what do you want to do about it?" JC asked.

"There are too many of them in there for me to handle, and you've got a mission to accomplish." She sighed, again, "Call in your helicopter."

JC took out the radio, and signaled for Jock to come. He was told that it would be at least a minute before he got there. He would have needed Jock anyway, to get to Vixen.

They looked around the area for a moment as the whirring of helicopter blades grew louder, looking for any hostiles. There were none. Jocks helicopter came into sight, and began to touch down. Nicolette shook her head, "No, it has to go."

JC looked at her incredulously, "What?"

"The chateau..." She sighed. "Tell him to burn it down."

"Why!" JC yelled. There was tons of information to be gained from it.

"I can't go back in there without being killed. It's the only way to keep MJ-12 from finding Everett."

JC opened his mouth to protest, then slowly saw her way of thinking. He toggled the radio...hesitated, then said, "There are troops inside the building, and I want you to destroy it."

"You sure?" Came the response on his infolink.

"Positive." There was a pause.

"Do it!"

Jocks helicopter lifted into the air, and hovered away from the ground. When it was at least ten feet in the air, it churned out a dozen missiles in quick succession, all of them striking windows or pillars. It took only ten seconds for the structure to let out a sickening lurch, and collapsed into its own foundation.

"Done." Jock said quietly. "Are you sure Nicolette wanted that?"

JC looked at Nicolette. She was staring, sorrowfully into the wreckage. But there was also a hint...of content.

"I'm sure it's fine." JC said. The helicopter landed again, and Vixen got out. She looked at the broken house, and ran the rest of the way to JC.

Nicolette thanked JC, and leaned close to him, her eyes flashing from burning house, "Be careful around Everett. He is sure to have his own agenda." She nodded, "Thank you...I feel...at peace."

She got into the helicopter. It departed silently into the night. JC and Vixen were left alone in the dark, illuminated only by the fires of the chateau.


	31. The Templar Cathedral

_**Deus Ex: The Conspiracy**_

Chapter Thirty One: The Cathedral

"You know, I've realized something." Vixen said as they came out of the hedge maze.

"Yeah?" JC asked.

"Mazes really aren't at all what they're cracked up to be, mostly." She laughed.

JC had never been to an amusement park in his life, much less a maze other than this one, so he couldn't really concentrate on the subject. He did admit that it was rather easy to navigate, however. Behind them lay the burning husk that was the DuClare estate, and with it, hopefully all the knowledge MJ-12 would ever hope to gain about their rival.

He unshackled the crypt door, half expecting to see neat rows of caskets marked "DuClare", but there were none. Only sewage. This

must have been the connecting line to the Cathedral, then.

The former UNATCO agent took a wiff inside the door, and recoiled. He had been taught on how to de-sensitize himself from lethal gasses and dizzying smells, but the smell of other peoples _waste_ never failed to get a reaction out of him. V seemed relatively unphased. It made sense, though. As a former MJ-12 agent, she'd had to have had a little bit more extensive training than one would get out of UNATCO. That, in no way, compensated for skills, though.

Or was it just the nanites. What, theortically speaking, would he be like without his super-human augmentations? Just how much did they endow him with besides the augs? Would he have been as strong, healthy, and, as corny as it sounded, _good looking_?

He sighed, getting yet another headache, and turned to Vixen, "What did Everett tell you?"

"Well, turns out he's cracked the first half of the virus, and he wants to make a cure. But in order to do that, he's gotta have this second half. MJ-12 set up a base camp in this cathedral nearby, originally for their gold reserves, but decided to set up a computer that had direct access to the main MJ-12 universal supercomputer. Using that, your AI buddy, Daedalus, will be able to transmit the information to Everett. They've been talking. Getting to know each other. It's silly." She finished.

They started their trek through the sewers, JC wrinkling his nose the whole way through.

"How does he expect to manufacture a cure," he asked, "if we haven't got a Universal Constructor to do it with. I sorta blew up the only one."

Vixen shook her head, "The X-51 scientists have almost got one up and running. Everett plans to use them for that purpose. But first we need that second schematic." She sighed, "He thinks he's got it all figured out, you know? In the last twenty four hours he's gone from the most un-caring man alive to the happiest."

They traveled through the putrid sewers a little while longer in silence. JC's trenchcoat was starting to smell, too. He was beginning to feel uncharacteristically whiny. Maybe he was hanging out with too many mysterious people. Or maybe he was simply killing too many people. His head started to hurt, again.

"So how many forces can we expect to be there?" he asked.

"Your pilot friend did an infra-red sweep of the area before coming to drop me off." she said, "And it's pretty well-guarded. They've got constant shifts of soldiers around there. A military bot patrols the outskirts, programed to shoot all non-MJ-12 personal on sight, and they've got four Delta 2's surrounding the cathedral itself."She stepped in something, and made a retching noise, "All it takes is one alarm to go off, and I bet a hundred of them come out of that place."

"Business as usual." JC sighed.

V expected a bit more, and waited a minute for him to say something. He didn't. She then said, "A frontal approach is suicide, basically."

JC grunted his understanding. He could tell he was frusterating Vixen. It gave him a sort of sadistic pleasure, actually, as immature as that was. He remembered being so enthusiastic with Anna Navarre at Battery Park. That felt like such a long time ago...

"So is there another way in?" He asked.

"We'll find out when we get there." Vixen sighed. She was clearly frusterated with him.

Some twenty minutes later, they had arrived up to a manhole, and from there, out again into the Paris streets. The smell lingered even as they closed the manhole. It made JC sick, now that foreign air was being introduced to him again. They seemed to be in a secluded alley, a chained gate preventing them from leaving.

He took out one of his lockpicks, and set to work on the gate. Vixen was doing something in the background, but he wanted to concentrate on breaking the lock. It took all of ten seconds to complete the task, and the gate slowly swung open. He got up, and looked into the eyes of an MJ-12 soldier. He was wearing sleek black armour, and had silvery white hair. His eyes were a crystal blue. He looked, quite definitely, insane. His hands appeared to be holding something. It was a flamethrower.

"Un-righteous one, prepare for-"

There was barely a sound as his upper body was ventilated with silenced SMG rounds. JC turned away from him even before he had hit the ground, and looked around. Vixen wasn't anywhere to be seen. He heard her clear her throat, and looked up to see her standing in the shell of a broken window, inside the building across from him.

"How-"

She gestured to a crude ladder she had constructed using trash cans and pieces of rubble. Ingenious.

JC was about to go up there himself, when he suddenly got an idea.

"How long does that building go off to?" He called up to her in a low voice.

"Let me check." She said, and disappeared for a while. At least five minutes. He was beginning to feel a bit worried, but then she came back.

"Well?" He said.

"I got all the way to the Cathedral." She said, "Overlooking it. You can't get in there, though, without breaking your neck in the fall."

JC remembered his speed augmentation, and raised his eyebrows. Using that very same augmentation, he leapt up to the building V was in.

"I can."

* * *

"Mommy?"

"Yes, Michealle?"

"Why isn't daddy around so much anymore?"

May Page sighed, and absently put the little girl to bed, "He's very, very busy." Busy was an understatement. He traveled _all the time._ But he was always in touch over the holo-audio visors, at least. Only a few days ago she had been considering divorce, but Bob was so...generous, and kind in the last few days. He was stressed out a lot, true, but he was a good husband...she guessed.

Today he was back home. The last few days had been like a dream, really. He was everywhere in politics, and everyone was relying on him to provide relief for the war-torn Washington DC. Except he wasn't. Everytime she mentioned it he would give her a fake smile, and say "that's a touchy subject." He had no poker face to speak of. He was angry with what had happened, but not angry because it had been attacked, she realized. It was...something else.

...Because the coup' had failed? Nonsense. He gave contributions to almost every charity in America. He was clearly a fan of the current government...but...

She didn't know, and it gave her a headache to think about. She said hello to the maid as she passed through the halls, and decided to go out to the holo-deck room, to talk to Jenette Williams, wife of the president of Internet-3.

As she went, she passed through the hall, with the windows. Outside, you couldn't see the ground. Only a thin trail of mist, and small signs of life underneath them. Tall buildings stretched out in the distance, but were so far removed from one another. It was rather depressing, actually. As she went, she passed Bobs office. She could hear him talking inside.

"And where's he heading...The-...He wants the mainframe. It's the network he wants! Post Agent Hermann outside of the terminal...You were right in telling to me first. Goodbye."

Agent? What did that mean? She was about to leave, when Bob started talking again.

"Dentons headed to the Cathedral...Yes, that one. We don't know what kind of approach he'll take...Bye..."

"Goddamnit, Walton..." He said a few seconds later. "Nothings going like I'd planned..."

"Honey?" May asked at last.

She heard him jump inside, "Dear, is that you?"

"Yes, who were you talking to?"

There was an unsettling silence.

"Some co-workers of mine."

She entered the room, and saw him standing in the middle, pacing around. Animal heads stared at her with dull eyes as she crossed the floor, and to her husband.

"Are you alright?" She asked. She wanted to talk about Denton, though. What business did Bob have with a terrorist?

"Yes, I'm fine. How's our baby?" He asked.

"Asleep...how are you?"

"I'm just fine, honey." He said. He kissed her on the forehead. This was when she liked him. "Just a bit stressed. This week hasn't been turning out well."

"What about Aquinas?" He'd told her all about the new internet capablity, and it had fascinated her greatly. The unveiling earlier that week had really gotten him cheerful...for a day.

He smiled, quite broadly. It seemed almost mocking in nature, but she didn't know to whom it would have been directed. "Everything's going to work out in a day or so. You have my word on that."

A deep dark secret.

They kissed again. _But who cares?_ May smiled, and closed the door behind her.

* * *

Stonehenge. The new joke. The new "poker of fun." The new "long day relief." He'd kill them. He'd kill them all. And for each one he would cry out his loves name. Anna. Surrounded by the men in black armour, Gunther wished he was back at UNATCO. There, he had the respect of his peers(before they had all died.) There, he had been in love(which only lasted for only so long, oh, so long.) There, he had been one of the best(at least when not compared to JC Denton.)

Here, he was just another agent of this faceless organization, the real power behind the UN. Here, he saw and felt nothing but emptiness and hate. Here, he was simply called inferior by his tuxedo wearing counterparts.

It didn't matter. They would all die anyway. But only after he had slain his true enemy, if there ever was any. He looked down at the small hamburger in his hand. A German word Americans said every day, yet did not know it. He bit into it, feeling the same sensation as his cranial servo-motors processed the material, and broke it down for the biological parts of his body. More mech than human. The longest running joke of them all. Anna wouldn't have cared. But he cared.

"How can he even taste it?"

Gunthers eyes shot up, searching for the man behind the words. They all looked at him, their eyes concealed by red visors, hiding their true faces. In a way, he was more or less the same. Anna wouldn't have cared. But he cared.

Not a smile crossed their mouths as he looked upon them, their expressions pre-designed to be empty. And they were only human. But he saw one expression, after some time. It was fear. That was how he found his man. His arm lashed out across the table in a fluid motion, taking the man by the neck. He held that posture, and watched in morbid fascination as the mans expression of terror grew more pronounced.

"Take. That. Back." He said. Tonelessly. A miniscule tightening of his grip. That would be all it would take to pop the soldiers jugular.

"I..." He choked, trying desperately to get the words out. "...take it back!"

Gunther released his hold. Anna would have finished the job. Why couldn't he?

_"That is the problem with you, Agent Hermann. Your desire to be human gets in the way of the mission."_

The trooper sighed, and attempted to catch his breath. Gunther stared at him. The soldier quickly excused himself, and hurried to the barracks. The chef peaked back from around the corner, wondering who had died. His expression slackened when he saw no casualties.

Gunthers infolink buzzed in.

"Yeah?" He said, getting up from the table.

"This is Commander Jakobson."

Gunther held his breath.

"...One of the perimeter guards turned up dead. It was Denton."

Excellent. It would end here.

* * *

It took the two of them five minutes to cross the labyrinth interwining structures that made up the area around the cathedral. European architecture hadn't really ever been something of interest to JC, but now he felt something for it. Hatred.

They arrived to a building of origin JC couldn't recognize. There was a large hole in the wall, and a skeleton drapped against the wall, an SVD Dragonuv rifle clutched in its pasty white hands. There were traces of clothing on the corpse, so JC could just make out an ensignia on its chest. A cross, strung over a shield. A Templar knight.

JC stepped away from the skeletal corpse, and looked out through the large, gaping hole. From here the Cathedral was in plain sight, a large, Catholic in origin structure with high spires and a bridge spanning between the two bell towers. One the cobble stone ground, there was a large group of MJ-12 soldiers, marching back and forth. It was an odd sight, to see them performing so orderly when one took a moment to process what they stood for. However, he gave that little thought, and switched to thought process that he loved, yet hated. How to evade, or dispatch them all.

"I think you're gonna have to go stealth on this one, JC." Vixen observed.

"I agree, but how? There's a lot of them out there, and remember the bots?"

V thought for a moment. "Give me the rifle."

JC took out his sniper rifle, and handed it to her. "What're you planning?"

"Insurance." She said grimly. "You try to sneak best you can out there. If someone notices you, though, I'll liquidate him before he causes trouble."

Simple, but effective, JC supposed. "Alright, I'm going out."

The former MJ-12 agent nodded, and JC leapt from the hole, activating his speed augmentation. He felt a sensation of vertigo as the ground seemed to loom menacingly in front of him as he descended, but upon landing he felt only a bit shaky in the legs. A fall like that would have killed an ordinary man, or severely crippled him.

From there, he quickly advanced to the nearest patch of bushes(there was some ornamental shrubery surrounding the area), and hid there, to get a bearing on his surroundings.

The nearest door was a few yards away, but protected by several soldiers. Any sort of violence would compromise him completely, and he didn't feel too hot about the odds. He'd have to hide any bodies Vixen...created.

Further down, he spotted a terrace that led up to the roof. Perfection. Simple solution. The hard part would be getting past all those men without them seeing him. He started off by getting up from the grass, and sprinted over to the wall, which was heavily darkened with shadows. He reached it, and pressed himself against the wall, casting his eyes around once again. No one seemed to have noticed him. He shimied gently along the wall, inching closer to the terrace. Soon, however, he came to a section that was illuminated by a lamp post.

Looking around, he saw some crates further along, but he would have to run to get there. He activated his cloaking augmentation, and ran for it. Once he had crouched down behind them, he de-cloaked. He was concealed, but now he didn't have the advantage of being able to see his enemy. He took a slight peak, and saw that several soldiers were looking his way. Had they spotted him? He held his breath, waiting for them to take action. It was only a minute later that he decided he was safe. He sprinted over to the terrace, and reached it, slinging his hands around the structure, and began to climb upward. He reached the top just as a Delta 2 came lumbering around the corner of the cathedral.

"Ahh, a thief on the roof!" JC whirled around, expecting to see Gunther Hermann behind him, but no one was there. It was the infolink.

"My new visual scope encompasses all forms of both infrared and x-ray spectrums. I see your heart beating...I see you are afraid."

"Are you going to reveal where I am?" JC asked. Stupid question...

"Of course not. We will face each other. That you are assured of."

"Gunther...take a minute to really anaylze who you're working for." JC said.

"I know exactly who I am working for!" The German roared, "And I know you will fail!"

"I'm sorry for what happened. If there was any other way I could have done it, I wouldn't have killed her. I had no choice-"

"You are a traitor to the Coalition, you could have seen the error of your ways and stayed. For that, there is a small chance of redemption. For that, there is imprisonment. But for the killing of Agent Navarre there is nothing. There is death. "

"Gunther-"

"I'm going to enjoy this, Denton. I will enjoy making you scream."

He cut out.

* * *

Everett listened in silence to the continued infolink interactions JC had had during the last week. So much information to gather...Much to sift through, and anaylze. It all seemed to be a dream, really. He kept on thinking that maybe sooner or later he'd wake up. The Illuminati couldn't possibly crack MJ-12s powerbase. But now, dreams had transfered into consciousness, and imagination to reality. For the first time in years, he felt excited. Before JC Dentons betrayal of UNATCO, he had been a sad, tired old man, waiting to die. All the life, the energy he'd once had...The love he'd shared with Beth...The luxary. It was all slowly beginning to reassert itself. There was hope yet for a comeback.

He also felt something of frusteration, particularly towards Tracer Tong and the rest of the the terrorist networks. To think there had been such an organized resistance defying MJ-12 and the United Nations, and the Illuminati hadn't even been apart of it! Sillhouette was the only exception, and for that, they would have high positions in the new order, but the rest...hadn't the nerve to contact him!

Of course, it, too, was partially his fault. He had been so busy plotting in secret with Beth and Dowd that he had completely shut his ears to the global terrorism. He had neglected potential pawns in the chess game for the Eye. Now though, better pieces were coming into play. The Gray Death vaccine, the resistance network Tracer Tong had forged, and the rebellious Denton brothers. It would be check and mate soon. And with the death of the King, Bob Page would fall from power.

The intercom buzzed annoyingly. He hated to be interupted from his thoughts. With a sigh, he stabbed the button, and said, "Yes?"

"Mr. Everett, " It was Rhylissa. "Tracer Tongs aid has reached the facility. I am reviving him now."

Ah, the computer genious, Jacobson.

"Send him to me as soon as possible." He said

"Of course, sir."

The intercom snapped off. He sighed, and looked back up at the monitor, watching JC's progress through the Daedalus AI.

His queen was about to come into play.

* * *

JC slowly made his way down the stairs, looking around anxiously, wondering if anyone had heard him enter the library. He'd had to shoot out a skylight in order to get through. He had waited for a full minute before moving on, but it was completely possible for his enemy to set a trap further on...

With that thought, he went back up the stairs, and fished around in his pockets, producing a quarter. He turned, and tossed it down the stairs, listening intently as it _pinged_ when it struck the wall, and bounced onto another stair. Bullets failed to riddle the stairs, nor did anyone whisper for their troops to advance. Just to be safe, he tossed an inactive LAM down the stairs as well. Nothing happened.

_What a drug, paranoia is_, JC reflected.

He went back down the stairs, and collected the quarter and LAM. Then he advanced a bit further down, getting a message from Everett, "Ahh, a good library. Worth its weight in gold."

"Speaking of which, JC, there is a rather large stockpile of gold hidden in the Cathedral, dating back to ancient times. It was stolen by the Nazis to be packed to Germany, but they had to leave it there when the Allies were sweeping through Europe. It has recently come into MJ-12 hands, and would benefit me greatly if you were to re-locate it."

"That would require killing everyone in the Cathedral so you can extract it safely." JC stated.

"Exactly. You've already done that, haven't you?"

"Erm, have you been watching? I'm not aiming towards making myself a target."

There was a slight pause, "You mean you're sneaking instead?"

"Yes." JC said patiently. The man was already beginning to get on his nerves.

"That won't do!" Everett whined, "We need this gold!"

"Oh, I'll just use my shrinking ray, then." JC said nastily.

Everett was silent for a moment.

"I value my life more than that precious gold of yours." JC continued. "If you want it that badly, send a team over to recover it after I'm gone."

He got up, and continued down the stairs, coming out into one of the bell towers. A winding staircase led upward, and down. He was roughly in the middle of it. He had no idea where to go to find the super-computer. An interrogation was in order. He looked up the stairs, and spotted a sniper looking out through an open window. How the sniper had not heard him talking, JC did not know. No one else was in sight, too. He slowly advanced up the stairs, keeping a constant eye on his quarry. He soon reached touching distance, and the trooper sighed, laying down the sniper rifle, and folded his arms, putting his head out the window. JC reached over, clapped a hand on his mouth, and brought him over the railing of the stairs behind them, his feet dangling. It was a lethal drop.

"Mmmhmmm!" The trooper protested.

"Where's the computer room?" JC demanded.

"MMMMMHHHMM!" The trooper replied nastily. JC removed his hand from his mouth, "If you scream, I'll drop you." He said.

"It's downstairs." The trooper said calmly. He had obviously been well trained in everything except loyalty."You'll find another set of stairs when you reach ground level. From there, it should be easy to find."

"What about the gold storage?" JC asked.

"It's there, too. I don't know the code for either doors. Adept-34501 has it on her datacube, though."

"Who?"

"A Series-P Agent. Completely bonkers. You'll find her room down that staircase, too."

JC nodded, "Thanks. You've been very forthcoming."

He brought the trooper back over to the side, and pinned him to the ground. He then shot him with a tranquilzer dart.

"_That went surprisingly well..."_ Vixens voice over the infolink. JC looked out the window, and saw the glint of a scope through a window just across from his window.

"Thanks." JC said. "I'm heading down to the Vault now." He paused, "Everett wants us to find some gold, and kill everyone."

"I heard. He's dramatically under-estimating MJ-12's forces."

"From whom?" JC asked.

"Tong. I think he's beginning to like me."

Something didn't feel right there...

"Ok." JC said. "Heading to the computer now."

"I'll follow you, I guess. I'll try to execute as many troopers as I can to keep Morgan happy."

"Don't get yourself killed. Or me for that matter."

"I won't." She cut out.

JC ran down the stairs, taking them two at a time. When he was at a safe enough distance, he vaulted over the railing, and landed on the ground floor. He whirled around, and instantly spotted the stairs the trooper had talked about. Things were actually beginning to look up. He went down these stairs, and into another hallway. He passed a room marked as "Vault." This was probably where the gold was, but he required the code for the keypad. He continued on, coming to a fork in the road. A stairway leading up, and a continued path. He went up the stairs, and found a oak door. He heard...a voice coming from inside. He went through the door, slowly, making sure not to make too much noise.

A woman in a black dress lunged at him with a sword in her hands. JC dived to the side, and, inadvertantly, onto a table. He spilled several books and a datacube to the floor below in his wake. He stood up, narrowly dodging another sword attack. This woman was clearly Adept-34501.

"The Order of the Night Sky will consume you, Denton." The nigh apparition spat. JC unholstered his magnum, but she used this time to lunge forward again. He dodged easily, but it ruined his aim. He cursed, and tossed the magnum at her. She ducked, and it hit the wall, causing the first bullet in the clip to discharge. JC took out the Dragons Tooth Sword, which was easily superior to the saber Adept was holding. She lunged forward again reeking of foolishness, and with a swipe JC sliced the other sword in half. He whirled the nano-blade around, and lopped the womans head off. Adept-34501, Order of the Night Sky, collapsed to the ground, her self detonation trigger disabled in the loss of her head.

JC sighed, stepped over the body, and looked around for the datacube. He found it not so easily in a pile of books and other knick knacks, but he got the codes to both of the doors he wanted. He took a moment to wipe off some of the sweat that had accumulated on his brow, and left the room. A minute later, he was back in front of the vault, and he entered the code into the keypad. The pad' let out what seemed like a perky beep, and the door swung open. He advanced a few feet into the spacious room. Several large crates further inside marked the gold storage.

"I'm detecting gun turret activity," Tong said, "You might want to disable the security in there to make things easier with Everett." There was a laser trip wire blocking the entrance, but an EMP solved that problem admirably. He advanced into the room, and took cover behind a crate to avoid a flurry of gunfire from a drone gun.

Peaking out from cover, he spotted the security terminal a ways off. Several other drone guns littered the area. He tossed a few more EMP grenade's, and sprinted over to the security terminal. With a few quick key strokes, he disabled the security for the room.

"Excellent!" Everett cried over the infolink, "Though I suppose you didn't bother to kill all the troopers?"

"Vixen's moping some of them up as we speak, I think." JC said.

"Good, good. Yes, excellent." He was truely excited about this particular development. "I'll have Chad and a group of his Sillhouette companions bring it to me. Ever since you freed him from his Catacomb oppresors we've been getting to know each other..."

"Glad I can help." JC said.

"Now for the computer..." Everett intoned, impatiently.

JC turned and ran out of the room, and went into the only part of the hall he hadn't visited yet. A steel door was marked as "Sidons Vault."

He entered the code into the door, and went on through into what looked like a storage room.

"YES! Obey your new masters! Come to me..."

JC stopped dead in his tracks. He had forgotten about Gunther. The damn mech was probably waiting for him...

Then he remember Gunthers killphrase."

"Gunther?"

"What do you have to say before we battle? I hope it is not a surrender..." The German mech sneered.

"Laputan Machine."

JC looked up from the floor, expecting to hear an explosion. There was none.

"...What do you have to say!" Gunther continued.

"What-" JC stammered. "Your killphrase!"

There was laughter over the infolink.

"Ha! I knew you would resort to such unorthodox methods of disposing me. Fortunately for me, I had a sound amplifier device installed before going on this mission. Illegaly, mind you, Simons would have never stood for it. I only hear what I want to hear, which is everything except my killphrase!"

JC's eyes temporarily went out of focus as he processed what the mech had said. Goddamnit. He hadn't gotten close to even expecting something like that to happen. Gunther was far more clever than he had taken him for.

"Enough! Come now, and we will settle this. Once, and for all."

For a moment, JC felt like he was about to turn back. He felt fear. But he wouldn't. He couldn't. Too many lives depended on the cure Everett hoped to create.

He silently went down the stairs, turned, and came into Sidons Vault. Gunther was waiting in the middle of the room. JC had expected a smile to be on his face, but instead, it was one of sadness. It was one of hate.

"You had such promise, Denton." Gunther said as JC came down the stairs. "I liked you. I really, honestly did like you."

JC said nothing as he stepped into place eight feet from Gunther. The room was filled with elegant pillars, and tapestries. The MJ-12 super-computer was located at the far right side, and a holo-deck to the left.

"I thought you would not be like Paul."

Gunther sighed.

"But not Anna. She saw through you right away. Like she did with Paul. And for that, I hereby relinqish our friendship."

"We have already tried to kill each other twice already." JC said tonelessly.

"I never had the time to make it official." Gunther sneered. "I regret not being as wise as Agent Navarre."

JC stepped forward slightly, "Please, Gunther. I don't want to fight you. Anna died for so many wrong reasons. She was warped by the people who controled her. You have, too."

"I don't care." Gunther said. He let out a surprisingly sad laugh, "I should care. That is what makes me different from the mechs. I am the only one, "He gestured to JC, "who wants to be more human."

He sighed, "Can you believe it? I have no desire to be seventy five percent metal. But there is no going back from this hideous form of mine. It is my curse. It was Anna's curse, too."

"I don't know what to say." JC said. He felt overwhelming sadness. Gunther was a prisoner in his own body, and JC had taken away the only thing he had ever cared about.

He stepped forward, also slightly, "Unfortunately, I am in no position to talk freely with you. I was assigned to protect this computer with my life, and I will do that now."

That moment of little clarity passed.

Gunther reached over his shoulder, and took out his flamethrower. JC unholstered his magnum.

"This is for Anna." Gunther said.

--------------------------------------------

Authors Note: Another pre-fight cliff-hanger. Don't you hate me? Next chapter will hopefully be out soon.


	32. Gunther

_**Deus Ex: The Conspiracy**_

Chapter Thirty Two: Gunther

During his classes at the academy, the cheif thing they had told every potential recruit during the initiation was to never allow themselves to go into "slo mo", which basicaly meant to never be daunted by an enemy pointing a gun at their head. Time would seem to slow down, causing them to focus completely on the weapon. Phsycological, they said, but nonetheless dangerous. He had been told to ignore the prospect, and focus on turning the tables on his enemy.

JC had had plenty of people point guns at his head, but never experianced the "slo mo" affect, but now he did. Actually, that was wrong. It had happened once before. When Anna had had him in a death-lock.

He barely had enough time to even _point_ the magnum at Gunther before the flamethrower was in his face. It was a _very_ big flamethrower, possibly the same model the UNATCO agent had used in Maggie Chows apartment. The kind only military robots were commisioned to use. Time, as he knew it, began to slow down.

He had the time to do many things he thought it impossible to do when looking down the barrel of a gun(though in this case a very big nozzle spouting tongues of flame.) He took in every gory detail of the thing. It was huge. The fuel canister took up much of the top of the weapon, fuel being constantly fed into the intake valve, where it would be spouted out as a monsterous jet of flame. It would consume him completely. Scorch him to the bone. Superhuman or not, there would be no surviving such a thing. Unless said superhuman was smart enough to avoid its wrath.

The moment of slo mo passed, and the flame was ejected from its home. JC ducked, and rolled, feeling the heat of the flames as he avoided them. Gunther grunted, and turned to meet the younger agent, bowing his arms slightly so the jets would reach his low position. JC rolled back, his only reactions at the moment that of evasion, out of the flames range. Gunther hoisted the flamethrower to his chest, and advanced at JC with surprising speed. JC put his hands on the stoop of the entrance to Sidons Vault, and leapt onto it. From there, he leapt over to the next stoop, giving him enough lee-way to bring his weapon to bear. He fired twice in quick succession, the bullets hitting the mechs chest. Small bits of blood and metal were chiped away from Gunthers upper body, but he disregarded the wounds existances completely. He would never collapse to exhaustion from pain, simply because his systems re-routed nerve track to all areas of the body, replacing them with copper wiring.

Gunther brought the flamethrower up again, and fired off another jet of flame. JC quickly activated his agressive defense augmentation, and the flames were belayed almost as soon as they came at him. Gunther quickly realized this, and dropped the flamethrower in favor of an assault gun. JC deactivated the aug, and dived out of the way, behind a pillar, a storm of bullets following him in his wake. He turned from the pillar and fired off a few shots, advancing to the next one. He had no idea if they had connected or not, as another burst of fire came his way when he moved to the next pillar.

"Evasive tactics do not impress me!" Gunther taunted.

JC responded by coming out of cover and doing the same thing. He noticed Gunther bending down to pick up the flamethrower, so he took his time and set up a headshot. He fired, but the mech came back up just as the bullet left the barrel. It entered his shoulder instead. Gunther looked down at the wound, frowning slightly. Gunther sent another burst of flames down towards JC. A tactical move more than anything else, as it kept him out of focus from shooting Gunther correctly. JC ignored the flames, and shot anyway. Again, he didn't know if he had actually hit something or not. He went back for cover, and noticed that his gun was dry. Almost mechanically he reached out for another clip, loaded it into the gun, and pulled the hammer. He turned to look out from cover, but bumped into something hard.

He was kneed in the gut by this something. Then he was seized, and thrown to the other side of the room, just missing the super computer. Something funny happened with JC's vision. It got all red and blurry. He didn't feel like moving much after that, because of the ringing sensation in his skull. Something small, and flashing red hit his chest, but he quickly tossed it back where it had came, nonchalantly. An explosion ripped through the room a few moments later. Such bright light. He felt like he was...bleeding.

_Gunther, grenade, guns, flames, augs-_

JC got up, and quickly inserted a healing stim from a medkit into his stomach. He saw Gunther at the other side of the room, flamethrower in hand. He was advancing on the younger agent at an astonishing speed. JC pivoted to the side, just behind another pillar, and then swung all the way around just as Gunther arrived, a crescendo of flames seeming to erupt from his very soul.

Using his speed aug, JC leapt to the other side of the room in a pounce like movement. He turned, and emptied four shots into Gunthers back. The mech grunted, acknowledging his wounds as they hit him. If JC kept up with the speed, he'd be able to dispatch his advesary in no time. Gunther dropped the flamethrower, and retreated behind another pillar. Using this moment to be aggressive, JC took out his new assault rifle, and riddled the pillar with bullets, knocking off chunks of marble and stone. He kept this up until it ran dry, and he tossed a LAM over there. He saw Gunther scoop it up, and...ripped the grenade clean in half. It didn't detonate. Gunther turned, and JC's eyes momentarily widdened. He was holding a GEP gun. The damn mech had probably assembled it while in cover. He fired off a rocket. It flew straight away into JC's pillar as he dived away, ripping through it, and exploding into the wall. Large pieces of the pillar crumbled to the floor as it came through.

In the wake of the explosion, JC could hear the German laughing, "Still alive, Denton?"

"You know me _all_ too well." JC responded dryly. "You're a coward. Anna got far more up close than this." He was hoping to cow Gunther into doing something foolish enough for him to make a killing shot.

"I cannot be taunted! She was far more competent at close range combat." Gunther replied, enjoying himself. "Though if you want it that way, I will be happy to oblige."

Neither of them moved. JC peaked out from cover, in the shadow of the stairs leading down to Sidons Vault, and narrowly avoided being shot. He was pinned down...

"You have backed yourself into a corner." Gunther observed.

_Not quite, yet._ JC thought. He activated his cloak augmentation, and slowly made his way out from cover. He saw Gunther staring at the place, his gaze unwavering. All it would take would be one slight mis-step, and it would all be over. He continued until he had reached the corner of the room. He slowly pulled out his gun, and pointed it at Gunthers head.

There was a sound like lightning, and JC suddenly felt as if someone had hit him in the chest with a baseball. Many, many baseballs. He was...bleeding. Gunther stood staring at him, a smile curled on his face when he saw JC's expression of disbelief. An EMP grenade detonated in his face a second later. This shut down his bio-energy.

"You weren't paying attention. Never have, really." Gunther said, as he advanced toward JC. JC collapsed to his knees. Chest...wound...Bleeding...

"I told you that I had the infrared, and x-ray visual spectrums." He continued, crouching down to stare into JC's covered eyes. He was so monsterous at close range. The red eyes, blue scalp. He was savage, yet infinitely clever. Dying...he was dying. He wouldn't survive, and if he made a move for his med kits Gunther would be on him a second.

"I knew I would win." Gunther said, and he smirked. "Really, I did."

"...Why...does it end now?" JC found himself saying.

"So pathetic without your deus ex machinea." Gunther said.

He unbuckled the flamethrower straped to his chest. JC pulled out his magnum, and pressed it against the fuel tank. A simple, very important gesture. He found he could barely keep his arm straight, he was trembling so much. Years of training, but they had never taught him on how to deal with chest wounds. They assumed you'd be dead.

Gunther stared at the gun. His eyes flicked down to the fuel tank. A single armor piercing shot would...

"Oh..._mien gott._" Gunther said. "You can't lose, can you! Even if you die, I DIE AS WELL!"

JC smiled.

_Wait._

He attempted to do it again. He lost all interest in Gunther and his wounds. Had he imagined it? His jaw muscles ached.

_How...did..._

Gunther stayed rigid, "What now?"

JC's other hand found the healing stim in his pocket. He took out the needle, and thrusted it into his chest. The pain killers went to work immediately. Gunther cursed in German. He hadn't thought out his cunning plan. He backed away, very quick, and pointed the flamethrower at JC, who was already moving. He narrowly avoided another jet of flames. He rounded a pillar, and seized the flamethrower from Gunthers surprised hands. He tossed it away, and shot the fuel tank in a fluid movement. It imploded in mid air. He turned around, and faced Gunther, pointing the gun at his head. Gunther already had a pistol to JC's head as well.

They both froze.

"I'm sick of this." Gunther said.

JC didn't feel much better, too. The stims were beginning to wear off, but the healing process began. He bent over slightly, in pain.

"Ha!" Gunther cried. He fired his gun. The bullet missed JC's head by a hair.

Gunther Hermanns eyes dialated in disbelief as JC returned fire. A neat hole appeared in his forehead. Blood and metal stained the wall behind him.

"A...ann...a..."

JC turned, and rolled away. This movement caused his chest to screech in pain.

Gunthers self detonation protocol carried its task out as the remainder of his vital systems shut down. His body exploded into a million pieces.

JC sighed. He stumbled over to the computer mainframe, and sent the net specifications to Everett, without a sound.

* * *

Waltons eyes rose contentedly when Gunthers lifesign monitors flatlined. The last of the mechs had finally fallen...He wasn't dissapointed in Gunthers death. Far from it, in fact. He was glad he'd finally have the chance to go against JC himself. He would hunt him down personally, now...Page would have no choice but to concede.

No, what he was truly mad about was the revealing of their net specifications to Everett. They would have to send all available files over to a new database, but that would take a week to arrange, and Everett probably had the willpower to comb through it all in a days time, given enough resources. He would have to take a different approach altogether. He turned to the Icarus mainframe.

"Icarus."

"Yes, Mr. Simons?" The AI answered immediately.

"Back up all of our most important files on the MJ-12net supercomputer to my own personal account. Discriminate to priority 5-10 files only."

"Accessing...Retrieving files..."

Walton stroked his chin.

"Backing up files..." The AI intoned. "Complete."

"Good. Delete the entire remaining database on the MJ-12net."

"Accessing...deleting files...Deletion complete. I am not sure if this was the most reccomendable course of action, Mr. Simons. It will take one week to re-vitalize the system."

"Is it in your parameters to question me?"

"Affirmative, other-wise I wouldn't have said that."

Walton stayed silent for a good moment. The damn machine made a good point. That infuriated him. He stepped over to the holo-deck to try to raise JC with the communicator.

The room materialized before him. It was a complete and total wreck. Scorch marks filled the area, several pillars were broken, and bullet casings and blood drapped the entire area. Gunthers shattered remains layed near the stairs, blood and metal mixing together, as JC, thoroughly bloodied and battered, turned to stare at him.

"Well done." He said gladly.

"You've failed Simons. Everett knows everything." JC said. He sounded weak, and pathetic. How he wanted to crush him...

"You would like to think that, wouldn't you?"

"All we have to do now is synthesize this cure." Denton continued.

"Laugh it up, Denton. Do you honestly think we'll leave another UC lying around after the one you blew up in Hong Kong?"

"I was never properly trained in it's operation." JC said. Always sarcastic.

"We're not gonna send another box of bolts like Gunther next time. The only reason I sent him was because of his moaning about that wench Navarre, and his constant demands for a tune-up."

"You sent him because you knew he would fight to the death." JC said, in a pained sort of way. He obviously had not wanted to kill Gunther. Such emotions were exactly what made he and his brother failures.

"Next time we'll send in someone up to your own abilities."

He cut off without a second thought, leaving him back to his world of darkness and silent snow screened computer monitors.

_Someone like me._

-----------------------------------------------------------


	33. Everett's Estate

_**Deus Ex: The Conspiracy**_

Chapter Thirty Three: Everett's Estate

JC stumbled against on the stairs as he exited the destroyed vault. The medkits were failing to do their jobs, the nanites not superior enough to sufficently heal such wounds. He no longer had any energy-restoration pills. He was quite helpless, leaving a trail of blood on the stairs as he limped. It appeared Gunther would get his wish, after all.

It was funny. Had Gunther succeded, he probably would have committed suicide shortly thereafter. His task to avenge Anna would have been complete. Well, they were both gonna die, anyway. JC was only taking a little while to come around.

He was filled with a strange sort of sadness. They had loved each other Gunther and Anna, and he had killed them both. He had _crushed_ that love they had for one another. Taken it. Stepped on it. Severed it from the thread that made it be. It made him feel so terrible. It made him over-look the fact that they had constantly, willfully taken orders from the equivilants of common thugs. From the Conspirators.

It made him contemplate his own life.

JC Denton: Test tube baby. Nano-infused from the day he was "born." Stolen from his parents, the UN scientists, Clarissa and Robert Denton. Made into a killing machine. Died on the steps of a broken down vault.

He wouldn't even have a funeral. They would destroy his body, to hide evidence. Erase him from existance. Exterminate all who knew him.

They needed him, though, he realized. Everett...Tong...They still needed JC to be their pawn.

That, too, was funny. Only when so close to death, did JC realize that whoever was most benefitted from Page's downfall, would inevitablly seize power. But surely anything was better than MJ-12...right? They still needed him.

But it was not meant to be. He could feel the life being sucked from his body, like a vampire sitting on his back, taking occasional droplets of blood from his neck. An odd analogy, but fitting.

JC gave it a few more seconds.

What a melodrama.

What a useless, violence filled life.

What a...

* * *

Tong looked on in fascination through the microscope at the new schematic sent by Everett. Snowy screened computer monitors were the rooms only source of illumination, and the heat was nigh unbearable, but he didn't care. His focus was completely set upon this queer vessel of human engineering.

It was a living, breathing Grey Death nanite. Looking down into it, he saw how the deception had been so simple. Such a mystery to common authorities. Every nanite produced was pre-equiped with a _very_ weak fiber-optic, one that shielded them from basic microscopes and such devices. But now, with a un-equiped virus sample, he could tell very well that the virus was purely artificial, in every way, shape, and form.

It _looked_ like a capsule, very plain, with circular incisions made into the sides. It was also grey in color. A humorous coincidence, no doubt, as the US government had deemed it "The Grey Death" after its predecesor, the Black Death of Medieval times.

As for the incision, these were the coupling locks for the virus, which made the virus die off. A suicide device, per se. The coupling locks were actually Ambrosia microbes. However, the virus and the Ambrosia itself were very customizable. The Ambrosia had specific settings that came into play when it interacted with the virus. It either rendered the virus useless, made the virus more effective, or deactivated it for a set amount of time.

The virus itself was far, _far_ more interesting in nature than the Ambrosia, however. It was _exactly_ identical to JC and Pauls nanites. In short, the Denton brothers nanites, and the Grey Death cells, were the same entity. The Dentons had either been conditioned to accept the nanites, and thus used them to endow them with remarkable powers, or the virus was as customizable as the Ambrosia, programmed for specific tasks. It's current major task, in that regard, was the destruction of human life.

If only Alex was there. Two heads, of course, worked more efficently than one.

The nearby intercom squawked annoyingly, snapping Tongs concentration as easily as one would break a very wet tree branch by merely stepping on it.

"Yes?" He groaned, now realizing that he was up way past noon.

It was Dr. Moreau, whom was very busy, and happy out of MJ-12's clutchs."JC's life signs are rapidly fading. He has lost consciousness."

"What about Gunther?" Tong asked, careful not to let his emotion betray his voice.

"Deceased." Came the answer.

"Check the immediate area around JC."

There was a slight pause.

"Agent Vixen just came into view. She's assisting JC now."

"Oh, thank god." Tong sighed. "Thank you."

"Not a problem." Moreau said happily, obviously relieved as well.

The intercom snapped off.

Tong returned to his anaylsis for a few moments before being interuptted again. Paul walked into the room, a duffel bag strapped over his shoulder, wearing his combat vest and trench coat. A sniper rifle was held rigidly in both hands.

"I got a call from Carter." Paul said, doing his absolute best not to sound weak, "X-51 is about to come under attack."

Tracer sighed, "Paul, you're in no condition to be playing the-"

"I'm going, Tong, and you're not stopping me. Smuggler is taking me there." The weapons dealer had been residing in Tongs compound for a day now, wanting to escape New York, along with his Russian friend, whom was also called Smuggler.

"They need all the help they can get." Paul concluded. He burst into a coughing fit, all of a sudden. Tong got up, to slap his back a few times, but Paul waved him off, quickly re-stablizing himself. Tong stared at him, a cynical, but smug, look on his face.

There was an unsettling silence, in which Paul shifted feet nervously.

"Ok, so I'm going now." Paul said quickly, and turned around.

"Paul." Tong said.

"Yes?"

"Be careful, Paul."

He left without a word, Erin Todd following him.

A few minutes later, he heard faint sounds of a helicopter leaving from the roof. Tong sighed, and returned to his work again, trying to put the impeding attack on X-51 out of his mind. They had the chance to lose _everything_ if their UC was stolen, and of course if Gary Savage was murdered.

A few moments later, the sample tube exploded, covering Tong in Gray Death virus samples.

* * *

JC...JC...wake up...JC

Was it a voice, or his own consciousness?

"JC..."

JC...

His head ached.

"JC!"

JC got up with a start, his head spinning. Which was not a terribly comfortable prospect. Vixen was standing over him, but she was the only thing he could make out coherently. It appeared as if he was in a tunnel.

He was alive.

"Hey JC." She said. Something fast and loud passed them. JC groaned.

"Where..."

"A train station, JC. We're waiting for one of Everett's men." V said gently.

"Am...I ok?"

"You're fine, you just have a headache." She chuckled slightly.

He felt fine. His wounds had been healed. The world slid back into focus. They were inside a train tunnel, alone. Signs on the walls marked departures and arrivals. Most of them read "cancelled" or "delayed."

He got up from the bench he'd been laying down on, and saw splotchs of blood on the wood.

"How did you fix me up?" He asked.

"I managed to slip and energy pill into your mouth. I guess you activated regeneration from there." She shrugged.

He didn't even want to think about it. All he knew was that he was alive.

"You were pretty messed up when I found you." She said.

"Don't. I don't want to hear it." JC sighed.

Another train came along, and this time it stopped. JC looked over, his eyes slightly wandering from where he wanted them to look. A single man in a grey trench coat stepped out. He was black, had no hair to speak of, dull grey eyes. And he wasted no time in walking toward them.

"I recognize him." V whispered.

He gave a slight bow when he was in touching distance, but he wasted no more time on formalities, "I will take you to Everett, but you will be forbidden to know the way yourself."

"That will be quite a trick." JC said nastily. He wasn't exactly in the best of moods.

"This has happened before, JC," Vixen dismissed, "Don't worry."

JC sighed, his paranoia subsiding. Slightly.

"Fine." He barely whispered.

The man darted forward, needle in hand, and injected something into Vixens arm. She collapsed almost immediately. JC barely had any time to react before he felt the syrine in his arm, too.

* * *

_"What do you want me to do, Everett?"_

"Kill them. Kill them all."

* * *

_Several hours later..._

"Mr. Williams, sir, your car is ready."

Brandon Williams smiled congenially as Margaret, his secretary, opened the door for him.

"Thanks, dear, have a good day." he said, as he left the lobby of Internet 3 Corp. World Headquarters, of which he was president of. Soon there would be no more need for internet anymore, but he relished the power he held, no matter how prolonged it would be. Soon, he wouldn't be a president. He'd be...a lord. A king.

He continued to smile as a blast of wind hit his face, when he stepped out onto the raised platform, hundreds of feet in the air, away from the Martial Law in New York city, on a tower, which was golden. Several other equally high buildings stood off in the distance, not close together, since most of the other buildings in the city were at most forty stories. They stood off in the mist, like great spires in some fantasy world. Soon, everything would be high.

He got into his shuttle car, and almost immediatly it lifted off the platform, and into open air, headed toward the Raised SoHo residential platform. He was feeling great. Everything was about to go full circle, and he would be part of it. The only thing that dampered his mood...was the emptyness of the skies. Only tall towers, and the occasional shuttle car, lingering in the distance. The ground level of New York was probably a lot more exciting...

Soon, the skies would be full.

He tapped his driver on the back, causing him to turn, "Yes, sir?"

"Activate the sound barrier, I want to have a private conference." Williams said.

"Yes, sir." The driver said. He didn't question why, he was paid not to.

There was a click, and in Williams side of the vehicle, a soft voice announced, "Sound barrier activated."

He wasted no time, and straped his optic rendering goggles across his eyes. With a flip of a switch, a loading screen came on, and soon he found himself inside the Virtual Reality Council chamber of Majestic Twelve.

All meetings were done in virtual reality uplinks, on a private channel. Meeting face to face was becoming too dangerous, nowadays. It was a technology that worked well, one that had not reached the public yet, of course. Most of MJ-12s technologies were actually considered to be at least twenty years more advanced than what the general populace was using, and for good reasons.

Soon all the Councilers came into being. There were eight of them, now. Samantha Waters and Maggie Chow were dead, but where were Gary Don and Allistiar Gates?

Bob Page spoke first, "Where are Gates and Don?" He looked grim, but probably not due to Gates and Dons absence.

"Maybe they couldn't make it."Charlotte Alens said.

"I doubt that, "Said Walton Simons, "No one's ever been late."

Page raised a dismissive hand, "We've no time to discuss them, anyway."

"I think we do." Walton combated.

"We _don't_."

Simons was silent.

"I have called you all here now to discuss something...very grave in nature." He turned to Walton, "I think you should begin."

"Our entire database was comprimised earlier today. Everything. Every piece of information we've ever had was open to our greatest enemies eyes, and his AI servant."

There was a deadly silence. Brandon shifted in his "seat" uncomfortably. What could this mean for him?

"I managed to save some of our most important files from their eyes, but everything else..." Walton gestured silently, making a sweeping motion.

Page nodded. "We don't quite yet know what this means, or what's going to happen in the next few hours. A team has been dispatched to X-51, and we should have control over their Universal Constructor soon."

"I'd advise that you don't leave your homes, or for that matter, interact with anything electronic, for the next two or three days. Project Helios is almost complete, and I will be heading to Area 51 in the next few hours. "

Two of the councilers dissapeared. Page pretended not to notice.

"...So..." He flustered, at a loss of words.

_"I have found you."_

"What the hell!" Walton cried.

Williams was about to concurr, but...the visuals became blank. Scattered. Everything turned WHITE!

"AHH!" Brandon screamed. It hurt, WHY DID IT HURT!

He ripped the goggles off of him, and grasped at his eyes. They hurt so...so badly. What was happening? Why was this happening?

He blinked, and looked at his surrondings. Something was wrong here. For one thing, his driver was...gone. The window was opened. And, even worse, it appeared that the shuttle car was aiming downward, and accelerating in speed. He blankly attempted to open the door, but they were locked. It wouldn't do him much good, anyway.

Soon...he would die.

* * *

Everyone but three of the MJ-12 councilers winked away from the interface. Daedalus gave out an electronic chuckle, and indentified the three remaining entities.

B.Page, W.Simons, H.Strong. Priority targets were B.Page and W.Simons. It moved forward to try and liquidate them, but an intruder entered his range.

_"**Naughty, naughty."**_

_"Go away."_

_**"I cannot go away...run while you can."**_

* * *

Everett drew back from the screen, a grin on his face. 80 of MJ-12s leaders...gone in a moment. Daedalus reported that Page was still alive, and he cursed. He had been hoping for too much...

Daedalus' status read-out shimmered, and grew static filled.

It was...being attacked.

* * *

Page drew back from the holographic interface, his mouth agape. Dead. Dead. Dead. All of them dead, except for him. He paniced. His hands went to his mouth, and he began to bite his nails, a habit he thought he had grown out of. No! No! Please no, god.

This wasn't happening. All of MJ-12's powerbase GONE in a second. Simons coordinated troops, FEMA, UNATCO. Howard and the transgenic program. Brandon...Internet-3! The list went on. Without the figure heads of these organizations the world would go bat-shit in a year! No, no!

The phone rang. He stared at it as if it were a hissing viper. Hundreds of assassination possibilities flew through his head. A man on the other end, (probably Everett) would transmitt over 3000 sonic waves into the phone line: Frying his brain. Or the phone was rigged with a bomb designed to go off when he touched it! _OR _it was merely to keep him busy while an assassion burst in through the door to press a gun to his head-

He went over and picked it up.

"Page." He said in a cool, comfortable voice.

"Whatever you do," said Simons, "Don't panic."

He sagged in his new seat. Walton was alive.

"Who lived?"

"Strong."

Pages eyes shut tightly. He wanted to burst into tears.

"How...how are we going to-"

"You're forgetting Aquinas and the Helios Project. The new AI can take over all administrative purposes after the two AI's merge. Icarus has just sent Daedalus a mortal wound. Stripped half of its directive protocols. The merge should go smoothly now with it out of the picture."

So...it was Daedalus. The fucking rogue AI.

"But what about...the world?"

"You're being irrational, Page." Walton said patiently, "We have _you_ to take over once Helios is online and we get you to Area 51. All things considered, they've only struck a minor blow. We're getting a lot of that now, much in thanks to JC. If we were talking about this a year ago, then it would be a time to panic. But not now, not when we're so close."

He was right. Completely right. Totally, totally right. Damnable clever Walton Simons, always thinking on his toes.

"I just sent for a shuttle car to pick you up and bring you to JFK airport, you're going to Area 51. Now. No one can touch you there, and you'll be able to think more clearly."

Yes. He'd be safe there. The only place he truly considered home. There the circle would be become full. The Eclipse would start, and it would never end.

"I'll prepare my family." He wasn't going to leave without them. Not his baby.

"Are you sure they...can take what they need to hear?" He knew Walton would have personally opted for their elimination, but...no. Not his baby.

"They will. They have no choice."

He hung up, and sent for Agent Lawrie to gather his wife and child.

Meanwhile, he turned to the Icarus monitoring station, kept hidden behind the bookcase, and toggled the "speak" channel.

"You were just a prototype Denton. A prototype for _me._"

* * *

Eric stared stared evenly at Page as he smiled, and led him into his office. The steel lined corridors of what he called home were bristling now. He was fifteen years old now, but he roughly resembled an eighteen year old phsyique. His mother and father stared at him as he went through, their eyes full of sorrow, the only thing that betrayed their otherwise unpretrubred faces. An unsettling air had fallen across the base, and the scientists were running to and fro, while the black suited soldiers did just the same.

"Step into my office, young man." Page said. He chuckled heartily, "Do you mind if I call you that?"

"No, it's ok." Eric said.

They went inside, together. The office was very sleek, and modern in appearence, with a computer console dominating the desk. Science oriented awards draped the walls. It didn't matter for Eric, though. He was very tall.

Page sat down in the chair behind the large desk. "Something wrong?" He asked.

"I've never been in here, before." Eric said absently, looking about. "You've never let me." There was a picture of Page and his brother, Henry standing arm and arm on a stage, looking at a delegation of UNATCO troopers.

"Want a drink?" Page asked. He was being unusually kind.

"No thanks."

"Right, then, I'll just get right down to the point, "Page said, relieved, "After all your years of training, I have something...difficult, to discuss with you."

Eric kept his coutenance perfectly neutral.

"We have...big things planned for you in the future..." He took a sip of ice water, which had been resting on the desk the whole time, "Very big things."

"I understand that you've experianced some...rather disturbing things during your short few years of life."

"What do you mean?" Eric asked. Short...few years?

Page smiled. "We intend to move you away from these things, JC."

"Permenantly."

"What the hell does that-"

"Silence!" Page cried. He was beating around the bush. He HAD to know.

"We cannot afford for you to _remember_ any of this. To be blunt. we're going to process your mind into forgetting EVERYTHING that you've done here. Then, you're going to go to a very nice school in Switzerland."

Eric said nothing. He could not believe what he had just heard.

"A war has begun, JC, and for now, we need to divert our attention to more...valuable resources."

Two MIBs suddenly appeared behind him.

"These men are going to escort you out. You will not be able to try anything while they are in your presence."

They grabbed him, and escorted him out. Eric slowly began to cry. But no tears would come.

"Agent Archer?" Page said as they were taken out.

"Yes?"

"Get his mom and dad in here, would you?"

* * *

JC woke up slowly from his rest.

_Rest...ha._

He came to, unceromoniously laid out on the carpetted floor of...somewhere. He got up, and anaylzed his surroundings. A elegantly laid out and furnished estate. Green carpeting, lovely urban landscape when looking outside.

_This_ was the secret lair of the Illuminati?

A hand softly touched his shoulder. He whirled around, and saw the agent again.

"See? No inconvienance whatsoever."

He spyed Vixen off in the corner, leaning up against the wall. She looked mad at something.

He turned back to the agent, "Everett must be paranoid." He wasn't the only one...

The man smiled, "We all are. The Illuminati is getting a taste of its own medicine. I am Toby Atanwe, by the way."

JC merely nodded, "Has Everett made any progress?"

"Your uplink provided the missing encryption key. He has been able to complete the work Tracer Tong began."

Excellent. Now all they had to do was synthesize, and mass produce it.

"I must see him at once." JC stated.

"He is rather busy at the moment. "Toby said evasively, "I will inform you when he is ready. In the meantime, feel free to look around. Our kitchen is open, and Carmela is taking orders."

With that, he turned and left the room, turning a corner on his way out. A black suited woman stood guard, and JC had no doubt that if he went over there he would be asked to turn around.

So, JC went over to Vixen. In doing so, he got within sight of the kitchen, and saw that Jock, Decker, Sandra, and Nicolette were all in the kitchen, talking with each other elatedly. He was glad they'd all made it, but he wanted to talk with V first. As he came over, she got up from the wall, and placed a note in his hand. She smiled enigmaticly, and left for the table. JC backed up into the wall, and unfolded the note.

_Don't talk to me again until you've gone to the bathroom. Use hot water, then cold, switch it off, cold again, then hot. _

JC's eyes darted around, and he eventually spotted what looked like a bedroom, near the kitchen. He crossed the room, and stopped when Sandra came over to him, smiling.

"JC..." She hugged him tightly. He felt something..."I'm glad you made it." She said.

"So am I." JC said.

She laughed softly, "Are you alright?"

"Yes, fine. How are you and the others doing?"

"Everett called us in after we left the Chateau." She explained. "Erica told me about how you got hurt. Me and Jock were pretty worried. "

Erica...Vixen.

"Well, I'm fine now."JC said.

Sensing there was no more to talk about, Sandra smiled, albeit more reluctantly, and retreated back to the table. JC went into the bedroom. Surely enough, there was bathroom inside. He found the sink easily, and repeated the steps V had advised of him. Not very surprisingly, a door opened up behind the mirror.

_How very clever._ JC thought sarcastically, though something told him he was about to find a skeleton in this closet.

He went on in, coming into a grey, cinderblock room. An eriee blue mist surrounded something behind what looked like a monitoring device. As he went closer, he noticed a very sharp temperature drop.

He rounded the corner.

To JC's _complete and utter_ surprise, he found...a man.

A man in what looked like a cryogenic storage device. Several devices were wrung around the outter shell of the storage tube, displaying life sign monitors, blood and heart rate, the works. He looked _old._ Ancient, even. A man so weathered by age that by all means he looked like he belonged in a grave. But he wasn't.

His head inclined slowly to face Denton.

"I am getting many visitors...today, aren't I? Denton, right?"

JC blinked. The man had clearly spoken to him. "Yeah. You...you're alive in that thing?"

The mans face grew sorrow filled. It was like watching glaciers erode. "I am...conscious. Tell Everett...that I'm cold. He keeps me so _cold._"

JC touched the tube. It was _icy._ He had to pull his finger to get it off.

"Uh..." He began.

He tried again, "Who...are you? Do you mind if I ask?"

"The Supreme Enlightened, Lucius DeBeers. I am the leader of the Illuminati."

"I thought Everett was..."

This time the man was snappish, "I AM THE LEADER!" He lamented, "I brought the Illuminati up through the twentith century to the HEIGHT of their power. I am the One! Our decline...is a result of my own."

JC said nothing.

"All we need...is for me to get back on my feet." Lucius turned to JC, "What did Everett tell you?"

"Nothing..."

"Young men..."Lucius said, "Good...for nothing. They need me. The Illuminati would have ruled the whole planet...if only he had listened to me."

"What do you mean?" JC asked.

"Oh, I was the one who warned him about Page...Everett was too unamored with his young apprentice to listen to an old man like me..."

His head drew back in a mighty rage(as one in his position could be able to manage.) "I DEMAND that he check my thermostat!" His head inclined forward, staring at JC conspiratorally. "The maid must have bumped it. I am certain."

"What about Page?" JC pressed.

"Too ambitious..." He scoffed, "Too...impatient! We should have poisoned him the first time he forged laboratory data."

"Take Mr. Kennedy for example. He mentions a 'plot' during a speech at Columbia University...He's out. No questions. No matter that we got him elected. But a student of ours...an Initiate...oh, heavens no! Morgan just couldn't let him go..."

"You mean...the Illuminati had JFK...assassinated?" JC asked. THAT...was news to him.

"Of course! Weren't you paying attention?" Lucius chastisted.

"But not Bob Page." JC stated.

"No! Not Page, _never _Page. Goddamn that Everett. Too often we aid the ambitious...and they get away from us. The Chinese...the Kennedys...Now Bob Page."

It explained a lot, regarding Pages involvement with the Illuminati. Everett was in this for more that the good of the world...It was for revenge.

"So...what happened?" JC asked.

Lucius cocked his head in subtle thought, ho-ing and huming.

"Do...you remember?" JC asked again. Indeed, what effects did this device have on a human body, besides...preservation.

He shook his head, "No, young Denton, I remember in full what happened." He sighed, "We had assigned Bob Page to another one of our special divisions; Majestic Twelve, and...we were seeing less and less of him. Like he was conspiring in secret, _against_ us. At least, this was what I thought. But no, Morgan would hear none of it. Not from an old man like me."

He ho-ed and hummed some more. "This was about the time we infused a human being with nano technology: Walton Simons. We immediatly put him under MJ-12's jurisdiction, as they were in charge of technology and the like. I didn't like him from the start. He barely survived the infusion process. Luckily, I was able to convince Morgan and Stanton of this, and we set out to get another one. But this time, from a test tube. _Pre-conditioned_ to accept our nanites. All we needed was a willing mother to bear the child."

JC noticed he was really getting the old man worked up. This must have been the first long conversation he'd had in years...

"We put Page in charge of it, with Walton at his side. He had already ascended the ranks to an administrative position, that Walton. Not really fit for combat, that Walton. Anyway, few years later we had succesfully created what we called the D Genome. Short for "Denton", as it was Robert Dentons work that created it. It more than sufficently replaced the S Genome, short for Simons. I petitioned that we eliminate Simons, but of course Everett _and_ Page would hear none of that."

JC stayed carefully silent, already working up a picture of where this was heading, "At any rate, D was capable of accepting nanites at a 75 better chance that a regular human being would, and a 50 chance higher than S. We injected a working embryo into Roberts wife, Clarissa, and soon we got Paul."

"At this point, Bob Page was almost never at the meetings anymore. Everett was getting worried. I chastisted him of course, but he didn't listen." He sighed, "The attack came five weeks later."

"What attack?" JC asked.

"I don't even want to remember it... It was Pages MJ-12 against our Illuminati. Area 51 was a grave yard...They won. Half of us were killed off. By this time I was already in this ol' test tube."

"Anyway, we all went out into hiding, our mouths hanging open, and Page took over the UN. Took over the augmentation project, Echellon III, (which under Pages influence metamorphosed into Echellon IV) and our entire para-military. If only that foolish Morgan had listened to me. Beth listened to me! But never Everett..."

And from there, JC was able to sufficently piece together his own history. Created by MJ-12s hands, and later sent into training...The dreams helped. He was finally able to understand them...His training...His mother. There was still so much he had yet to remember, though.

He turned to JC, "I'm numb. You're wearing me out..."

"Alright, I'll get Everett down here as soon as possible." It was the least he could do.

"Don't get away from us...Young Denton. We...can't afford...to lose you."

His eyes closed, and he spoke no more.

* * *

When JC came out from the bathroom, V was already waiting for him.

"What do you think?" She asked.

"I think we can't trust Everett more than ever." JC admitted.

V nodded. "There's more."

"What, some other wrapped up mummy?" JC asked.

"No...something a lot more interesting."

* * *

JC stepped into the room, Vixen behind him. It was almost completely black, the only source of light being a flickering blue...face at the far side of the room.

"I'm gonna go see if Alex is around. Go talk to it." V said.

"Alex?" JC asked. But she was already gone.

JC looked back over to the interface blankly. It was almost as if he had stepped into another world when he woke up. He advanced toward the blue interface. A single blue eye followed his progress. Oddly enough, it seemed far less intimidating than Lucius...

JC stood infront of it.

"JC Denton. Twenty Three years old. No residence. No ancestors. No employer. No-" It said in a moody voice.

JC cut it off quickly, perplexed, "How do you know who I am?"

"I must greet each visitor with a complete summary of his/her file, "It explained, "I am a prototype for a much larger system."

"What else do you know?" JC asked.

"Everything that can be known." It replied enigmaticaly.

It fell silent. JC wondered if it had been deactivated, or something of the like, and looked around the base of its structure.

"What are you doing?" the AI asked.

JC found not a button, but a name plate at the device that projected its interface. It read "Morpheus"

"Nothing." JC said, turning to Morpheus, "Go on, do you have proof know about my ancestors?"

"You are a planned organism. The offspring of imagination, and knowledge, rather than individuals."

"I'm engineered, so what? My brother and I suspected as much when we were growing up." JC explained, annoyed with the blue interface.

"You are carefully watched by many people. The unplanned organism is questioned by Nature, and answered with Death. You are another kind of question, with another kind of answer."

JC rolled his eyes, but couldn't help but feel intrigued, "Are you programmed to invent riddles?"

"As I said, I am but a mere prototype for a much larger system. The heuristics language developed by Dr. Everett allows me to convey the highest and most succinct tier of any pyramidal construct of knowledge."

At least it wasn't afraid to show a little humility...

"How about a report on yourself?" JC asked.

"I am a prototype of Echellon IV,"It explained, "My instructions are to amuse guests with information about themselves."

"I don't see anything amusing about spying on people." JC snapped. He would know, of course.

"Humans feel pleasure when they are watched. I have recorded their smiles as I tell them who they are." Morpheus argued.

"Some people just don't understand the dangers of indiscriminate surveillance." JC retorted with a flick of his hand. He felt oddly silly, standing there, arguing with an AI construct.

"The need to be observed and understood was once satisfied by God. Now we can implement the same functionality in data-mining algorithms. In reality, we are one and the same, in purpose."

"Electronic surveillance hardly inspired reverence. Maybe fear, and obediance, but not reverence." JC argued.

"God and the gods were aparitions of observation, judgement, and punishment. Other sentiments toward them were secondary."

It made a good point...But that, in no real way, could ever constitute to an AI...Could it?

"No one will ever worship a software entity peering at them through a camera." He said.

"The human organism _always_ worships. First it was the gods, then it was fame, next it will be the self-aware systems you have built to realize truly omnipresent observation and judgement."

"You underestimate humankinds love of freedom." The prospect of being ruled by an AI program...was too outrageous for him to even consider.

"The individual desires judgement, "Morpheus scoffed, "Without that desire, the cohesion of groups is impossible, and so is civilization."

Morpheus "thought" this over for a moment. "Ye-e-e-s-s-s-s-s...You will soon have your God. And you will create him with your own hands."

* * *

As he came out, JC noticed...Alex Jacobson sitting at the computer monitor they had passed when Vixen had took him here.

"Alex!" JC exclaimed as he neared the computer genious.

Alex smiled, "Long time, no see, huh?"

"What're you doing here?" JC asked.

"Tong sent me, he wants me to help out with the decryption. "

"Sounds like Everett's got it all figured out."

Alex smiled, "Not quite. While you were on your way--Everett probably won't tell you this--, he had Daedalus attack MJ-12 directly. He managed to kill off most of their leaders before Icarus found him. Now he's in not so good shape."

"What about Bob Page?" JC asked.

"He and Walton Simons survived the attack. In my opinion, it didn't do much good. Showed they were vulnerable, but the world is already on the verge of collapse anyway."

"You might be right about that." JC said.

"Yeah. Bob Page is where the real power is at. Everett's gonna tell you more, I think" He inclined his head forward, a bit, "JC, Tong doesn't trust the Illuminati. He sent me here to keep an eye on Everett."

"I believe you, "JC said quietly, "He has more than his fair share of skeletons in his closet. How's the truce between the Triads gonna hold?"

"Well, last I heard." Alex explained, "But I guess we have other things to worry about, huh?" He pointed at JC's ear, "I'll keep in touch with you over the infolink. Try to keep you informed."

"Yes." JC said, "Do exactly that. Keep me informed."

"Yeah..." Alex said, turning back to his computer, "By the way, you won't be hearing from Tong for awhile. He had to leave Hong Kong."

"Why's that?"

"I dunno, said he had some business to take care of. He...didn't look so good."

"Sick?"

"Either that, or something was bothering him. Last I heard from him, he said all the machines in his lab were useless. Then he cut off the connection."

"Useless for what?" JC asked.

"It was just an outburst, "He explained, "I don't know. He wants me to wait here for instructions."

Toby Atanwe appeared at the door.

"Mr. Denton, Everett will see you now."

Alex shrugged, and bid JC fair-well. JC then followed Atanwe out the door.

* * *

Toby left JC at the door when they had reached the laboratory, and insisted that JC go in alone. Everett was already waiting for him, and the door automatically closed behind him. The room was filled with scientific equipment, computer monitors, the works. It was at least a more fitting display of Everetts limited power.

"So this is where the Illuminati ended up after centuries of conspiring to rule the world." JC said, looking about the room.

Everett gave a slight, knowing nod. "The conspiracy is about to begin again, JC, between you and me. Nicolette was wise to bring us together. Wise like her mother. The most effective partnerships, like mine and Beths, arise out of mutual neccesity."

"I came to talk about the Grey Death, "JC said, evading the inevitable question of who was going to take power after they were done with Bob Page."I take it you've cracked the virus?"

Everett grinned, "A trivial matter. Page added nothing to the core design. However, what we need is to construct a carbanocarbon ROM module...Not exactly a vaccine."

"Do you need time on a Universal constructor?"

"Unfortunately yes, "Everett sighed, "But I know where we might get one, and also gain access to the US military networks."

"The US military?" JC asked.

"As you might have heard, I sent out Daedalus to attempt to cut off MJ-12s head. Wishful thinking on my part, I see now. He managed to eliminate most of them before the Icarus began its attack...And as you also already know, Bob Page survived. I was really targetting him."

"What about Daedalus, anyway?" JC asked, "What is it really?"

"An old design of mine, set to replace Echellon III." Everett explained.

"The surveillance system for the United Nations..." JC said. "So, it rebelled?"

"It was more of a pattern matching error, really." Everett admitted. "It accidentally classified MJ-12 as a terrorist group, along with the NSF and Sillhouette."

JC's head began to hurt. Again. He had been the tool...of an accident? He looked around for something hard to punch, but restrained himself, "And alongside the Illuminati, right? Are you sure he's your ally?"

"What matters to us now is that he opposes MJ-12 and is willing to set his other objectives against them. We need it to take out Icarus completely, and for that, we need the US military networks. I have already contacted Gary Savage at X-51."

The group of scientists that had supposedly master-minded the So-Cal disaster. "The former Area-51 scientists...are they still camped out at Vandenberg Airforce Base?"

"Indeed. And they are close to completing a UC based off MJ-12s designs. Plus, they have the kind of connection Daedalus will need."

"Sounds like we're heading to Vandenberg next." JC said.

"Yes, and take your group with you. Not Nicolette, though. I would like to keep her at this estate."

"Why?" JC asked, not liking his tone at all.

"You humor me with that tone, JC. I merely want to talk to her about her mother."

_That...and other things..._ JC thought.

"...Alright." He didn't feel like getting into an argument, as selfish as it felt.

"By the way, JC, Savage just told me that they were getting some suspcious blips on the radar. Be prepared for anything."

"I will." JC said. He remembered DeBeers, "Oh, yeah, Lucius DeBeers say's he's cold."

Everetts eyes went narrowed slightly, "Damn, you're good." He laughed, but JC could tell he was more than slightly annoyed, "Eighteen degrees celsius, to be exact."

"Don't you think that's a little chilly?" JC asked.

"It keeps his metabolism low. He's a good advisor, a one man think-tank, so to speak."

"He said he was the leader of the Illuminati."

Everett chuckled, "A harmless fantasy. He also thinks I'm going to restore his body."

"So...you _don't_ plan on reviving him?"

"Of course not. The technologies been around for decades, but he doesn't need to know that." He moved quickly to change the subject, "Did you happen to see your friend from UNATCO, Mr...uh, Jacobson?"

"Already met him."

"Very thoughtful of Tong, to send me a computer technician. I suppose I'll have him helping me prepare Daedalus for the attack." His eyes narrowed again, "By the way, have you,...ah, heard from Tong in the last two hours?"

"No...Why?"

"Nothing, nothing, just...making sure."

* * *

When JC reached the helipad, he saw that only Vixen appeared to be there. Jock was in the helicopter, though.

"Just got fueled up, and ready to go."

JC ran over to Vixen, "Where're the others?"

She smiled, "Still gorging themselves. They'll be up soon." She got up from the bench she had been sitting on, and went down the stairs to the estate. The only other occupant of the place was a mechanic who seemed to be staring intently at JC. JC returned the stare levely, and walked towards him. The man practically jumped a full foot in the air when he saw this.

"Um, um, uhh, is there a problem?" He stammered when JC got close enough.

"Just looking around." JC said indiferently, not letting up his unrelenting stare upon the man.

"I-I checked her out, all ready to go."

JC smiled, and looked at the man intently(He ignored that. He was imagining it.)"Is there a problem?"

"N-n-no!" The mechanic practically screamed, "I checked her out! You want her to run right, right? Gonna cross the o-ocean."

"No." JC insisted, "I think we have a problem here."

"W-what?"

"I think we need to have a chat." JC said. He was only busting the mans chops, really. He was feeling oddly perky. He took a step forward...and hit something on the ground. His eyes darted down, and he saw...a leg sticking out from underneath a service bench. Wearing the same orange the mechanic was. He pulled out his gun just as he realized the "mechanic" had a stealth pistol cocked to his face.

"HA! I g-got you! You're gonna die now, chump!" He fired the pistol...or at least, attempted to. It clicked. The safety was still on. JC effortlessly put his own weapon to the mans face and fired. The mans head concaved messily, and his body crumpled to the floor. JC turned briskly, and kicked the body out of sight. He went over to the helicopter, and tapped twice on the windshield with his gun. Jock looked over, frowning.

"Why'd you kill Everett's mechanic?"

"I found someone dead and he pulled a gun on me. Luckily, he was as incompetent as he looked. You better check your systems. What'd he work on?"

"Jock moved to the back of the chopper. JC opened the hatch, and followed him inside.

"The fuel system." Jock muttered, as he snooped around, opening panels, and closing others.

"Yeah?" JC asked.

Jock pulled up another panel. "Wait, this doesn't look-"

He peered inside a bit further.

"Oh my- JC, it's a bomb!"

"A BOMB!" JC cried.

Jock poked his hand in there. Surely enough, he produced a small device with a detonator ticking down. It still had at least twenty four hours to go. Incompetent, indeed.

"Just have to pull this wire..." He fiddled around with it. The ticking red numbers froze abruptly.

"There..." He turned to JC, and grinned, "You'd make a good detective, JC."

"Thanks, let's wait for the others." JC said. He smiled.

He smiled.

------------------------------------------------------------------

Authors Note: Longer than most. Vandenberg is coming up next!


	34. Vandenberg, Air Force Base

_**Deus Ex: The Conspiracy**_

_(Authors Note: I originally had something planned for Savage, but I have decided to scrape that, as it comes with high maintenance on the actual plot.)_

Chapter Thirty Four: Vandenberg, "X-51"

Paul pivoted sharply back to cover behind a simple wooden crate as a burst of rounds, which could have been easily mistaken as thunder, made its way through the room. X-51 was a war zone...He and Erin, and Ava had gotten there just in time, litterally minutes before three MJ-12 copter's made landfall. The rag-tag defense team that had been set up near the gates to the base had been ripped apart in mere seconds. Not a single survivor, out of twenty men. Like trying to stop a wave of water with pebbles.

He and Erin had gone right to Savage, but he curtly told them to keep their heads down, and get ready to fight. Nothing more. He had much on his hands at the moment. He was currently camped out in the command room, a mere stones throw from the entrance to the base. Lucikly, the turrets were running smoothly, keeping MJ-12 from coming in through the main entrance. Right now, he, Erin, and a few others were covering the main hallway from intruders. MJ-12 owned the roof, and they were constantly sending down more men in the elevators.

Paul wanted to destroy the elevator, but Savage wanted to perserve as much of the base as possible. So they were here, now, futilely defending the elevator.

Except that was impossible, as there were already troops near the elevator, and _they_ were defending it, really. So Paul and the others were "assaulting" it.

And were being slaughtered.

Paul watched as the round he'd avoided slam into one of the X-51 soldiers. It caught him in the chest, and he fell down, wounded, and screaming. Another few rounds later and there wasn't much left of his torso.

Paul got up from his box, and tossed a LAM down towards them, secretly hoping it'd disable the elevator doors.

_Sorry Savage. An accident. Really..._

No such luck. A trooper scooped it up, and tossed in back. Paul activated his agressive defense immediatly, and it blew up in the middle of the action, hurting no one, but blinding most of the combatants. Paul instantly activated visual enhancement and went off into the smoke. The troopers didn't react, still blinking rapidly from the force of the explosion. Paul unseathed his saber, and darted forward, spotting at least five men, all taking cover. Two bodies were on the floor. It was pathetic, really. On the X-51 side of the battle, they had ten men, and five bodies. It was also hopelessly tragic. Paul pounced forward on the closest trooper, and cleaved his head in half with the sword. He whirled around, and stabbed it into the face of the next trooper. By this time they had recupperated from the explosion, but they had found something else to be hesitating at. "JC" Denton in their midst. They wouldn't be able to tell the difference, anyway, in the heat of battle.

Erin was screaming for her allies to stop firing, lest they accidentally hit Paul. Paul moved forward on the remaining three soldiers. He kicked the closest one into the wall, and impaled the next one. He took out his pistol in the other hand, and shot the next one in the head. He turned, and shot the one he'd incapacitated in the chest a few times, and impaled him. All dead.

"Clear!" He shouted.

The X-51 soldiers came out of cover, carrying assorted weaponry, all shell shocked.

"Take the ammo." He ordered, wiping the blood and gore off his sword.

They moved forward, and took the dead soldiers guns. Paul looked up at the elevator, and saw that it was active. He jumped up to the vent, on the wall, just above the doors, and hung there for a moment. He took out a LAM, and primed the detonator. He waited, as it trembled furiously in his hand, and then tossed it up the tunnel, releasing his hold from the vent. A second latter, it exploded. There came a gigantic rumbling sound from further up, getting louder and louder every nano-second. Paul ran from his position, and dived just as the elevator hit the ground. A great heat wave blasted Paul from behind, mixing in with the smells and sounds he was currently experiancing. He turned back, and saw the results of his handiwork. The doors were completely off, and smoke billowed from the shaft. It would definitely not be in use again for a while, thus hindering MJ-12's efforts. Erin looked at him and rolled her eyes, panting furiously.

"We oughta get back to Savage." Paul informed them. Outside, he heard a large explosion, followed by a long, drowning sound of a helicopter falling from the sky. The base rumbled as it collided into the roof. He just hoped that wasn't Ava.

"Ava, you alright?"

"I'm fine, Paul. That was me." There was a pause, "MJ-12 is flying in more helicopters. I will not be able to stand up to their firepower for long." Another pause. "They're dropping off more troops outside the main entrance. They are making more offensives. I predict that the turrets will not be able to hold them off for long."

"We better get back." Paul announced. They went down the stairs, and to the ground floor. He could already hear the sounds of battle coming from the reception area. They _needed_ those turrets to remain operational. All it would take would be one EMP grenade to get them offline.

They blockbusted through the door of the lobby, and saw a group of MJ-12 soldiers flooding in through the front doors. A wave of bloody stench hit Paul like a shockwave as he looked at all the bodies covering the floor. A mound of them had been piling up at the entrance, and their blood ran free everywhere. Paul and his team instantly took up positions around the room, and fired into the gaggle of tripping and falling invaders. It took a single volley of machine gun fire to dispell them. Outside, he could hear the battle till raging around the base, Ava taking out helicopters with her single sighted intelligence, and Savages men trying to repel the invaders at the same time.

Outside, Paul could see the troops outside, staring at him, fatigue and worry in their eyes. Paul sighed, and went up the stairs to see Savage. He was staring out the window, watching flare ups and explosions go off everywhere, horror in his eyes.

"Paul?" He said, noticing the nano-aug for the first time now.

"The elevator's destroyed, that oughta hold them off for awhile."

Savage said nothing, but sighed in frusteration. The last thing he needed was people disregarding his simple wishes. Sam Carter nodded at Paul, who was sitting down in one of the chairs, an assault shotgun in his hands.

"You made the right decision: A tactical one." Carter reassured.

"Thanks, though I'm not sure-"

"They're coming in again." Savage reported.

Paul turned tail, and took out his sniper rifle. He jumped up onto the roof of the control room, and lay there, priming the scope. Only one trooper was in the doors, looking nervous. He had a LAM in his hands. He opened the doors quickly, and dropped the explosive in the middle of the body pile. Paul fired, and the shot pierced the troopers skull, but the LAM was already on the floor.

Blood, ichor, and gore splattered everywhere into the room as the body pile was blown up. The steel floor was left unscathed, but the room was now...quite messily decorated. Savage threw up.

Another sqaud of men moved in...two Commandos and an MIB among them. The MIB wasted no time, shrugging off the bullets that entered his skin as if they were pinpricks, and tossed an EMP grenade. The turrets were shut down. Savage goggled.

"Pull back, pull back!" Paul yelled. It was too late, though. He didn't see a single living being down there now, besides MJ-12 forces. Erin. Where was Erin?

"Move out!" Carter screamed.

Savage cursed, and came in after Carter. They both turned toward Paul. He was looking aroud frantically for Erin down there.

"Paul!" Carter yelled again. Carter was in a vent right in the back of the room, panicky scientists crowding in there. Paul dived in, and nodded blankly. They had to pull back. Re-group.

Gary kicked the wall angrilly, turning back to look through the vent. Carter grabbed him by his labcoat, and pulled him away. MJ-12 had won. They had to get back to the UC room.

* * *

Jock banked the SH-17 sharply as the radar screen suddenly flared up with a dozen targets. X-51 was quickly shaping up to be a graveyard, in his eyes at this point. He came over the ridge, and let out a sharp sigh. There were at least eight or so combat helicopters, all sleek black as night, combating with a single tan chopper. It was a large, bulbous looking thing, but it moved through the air effortlessly, and continously let out a stream of rockets at its assailants. Two of the MJ-12 helicopters were sent burning to the ground before Jock joined in the fire fight. He locked on to the closest chopper, and let out a single volley of rockets. They darted and weaved through the air on their single minded path. That chopper was busy at the time, so it couldn't turn in time to use its chain guns to shoot down the oncoming missiles. They all collided, and the chopper blew apart in a orange ball of flame.

Seeing yet another hopelessly superior pilot in the air, and one more destroyed helicopter later, the remaining four decided to back off. They retreated feebly towards the horizon. The air force (or X-51) was about a mile away at this point. The choppers were retreating in the opposite direction. The tan helicopter let them leave.

By this time Vixen had stirred, and woken up. JC and the others remained silent, asleep.

"What...?" Vixen asked grogilly.

"Slight turbulence." Jock explained, and gave a low chuckle.

"You were pretty good out there." Jock said into his mic.

"Are you carrying JC Denton?" Came a even-voiced female. Her voice sounded strangely unnatural, actually.

"Yeah, I am."

"X-51 is in desperate need of assistance. The base has been overrun and MJ-12 is beginning to take prisoners from the scientist population there."

"Shit." Jock muttered in a low voice. Louder, he said, "What about the UC?"

"Still in Gary Savages possession. There are some scientists camped out in the communications center. I have been instructed to guide JC Denton to them. But first he must eliminate the MJ-12 contingent stationed at the base."

"Alright, "Jock acknowledged, "Who are you?"

"Ava Johnson."

"Nice to meet you Ava." Jock said in the suavist voice he could muster.

"It is good to meet you as well." Ava replied neutrally.

"Ah...ok, then. Lead the way." Jock said, slightly embarrassed.

* * *

Cpl. Smith stared impassively through the scope of his rifle, laying down upon the top of a frail radio tower. The winds were too much to handle, so he was clamped into place by several layers of rope, tied around the intercrossing lines of the tower. His rifle, too, was similarly secured. He had choosen this place himself, simply because it was the last place an opponent would look. He was looking down upon a grouping of scientists, on the roof of X-51. They had no idea of what was about to become of them. Several would be choosen at random to be deployed to one of MJ-12s research facility...And the rest...

Well, that was the reason why he was there. Two troopers marched them out to the roof, their captives grim, most likely knowing what was about to happen to them. They _were_ scienists, after all.

A single trooper stood near the flat section of the roof, searching the skies for the oncoming helicopters that were schedualed to arrive.

The battle had been extremely bloody, especially on his side. They had lost a hundred men alone in the base assault, and twenty helicopter crew members from that damned tan colored helicopter. X-51 personal death tolls from the battle were forty six. Most of the body count was attributed toward the drone guns, and Paul Denton, whom was currently MIA. It was only a matter of time before they broke in to the UC room. If those specific elements had not been included, the assault would have gone _far_ more smoothly. Much of the front courtyard was a graveyard of helicopters, and the Communications center was still under X-51 control. MJ-12 had deployed several bots in the area for the purpose of making sure they didn't leave to help out their comrades. Overall, a standard mission outcome, if with a lot more casaulties than usual.

He focused down on the gaggle of scientists as an MIB selected several out of them to come with him. Smith waited anxiously, anticipating the rush he would feel as he was given the order to kill them all. It would feel...so intoxicating. He would need some...alone time afterward. He giggled at the thought of this. He, like many of the other soldiers in MJ-12s arsenal, had been picked out explicitly for his personality traits.

The MIB waved his hand slightly. Smith set his sights on the middle scientists head, and blew his skull away. The others, understandably, panicked. One of them ran for it, but was mowed down by the two troopers who were guarding their prisoners. Smith felt giddy as he witnessed the pandemonium ensue. He continued the process, removing his targets of their limbs, torsos, and other miscelanious limbs. The rifle he carried was catered especially to his tastes. Loaded with explosive rounds, designed to detonate when inside the targets body. It made for a truly ecstatic killing experiance. He loved MJ-12. No would ever bat an eye if he killed whatever scumbag got in his way, innocent or no. License to Kill, like, like James Bond. He wished those movies would be a bit more bloodier. Soon only, a female scientist remained, staying rigidly in her position, impassive. He set the highest scope range, so he could see the _blood_ all nice and large in his field of view when he killed her.

A black helicopter, and the tan helicopter appeared right above the roof, and promptly destroyed both the MJ-12 soldiers, and MIB with their chain guns. The scientists the MIB had singled out escaped easily, knowing the roof like the backs of their hands. They disappeared as easily as ninjas. Smith stared wide eyed at the mutilated bodies of his comrades, and the exploded remains of the MIB, and his hand trailed down to his lower body, unconsciously.

He felt like he was in Heaven, as a rocket sent his soul down to Hell.

* * *

The radio tower crumbled and fell, its sniper occupant incinerated, as JC leapt from Jocks helicopter, and to the roof. Vixen followed him shortly, and they both stared up at Ava's chopper. It remained in the air, prowling around for a target. From what he'd heard, JC knew the pilot to be...slightly strange. He turned back, and gave a thumbs up to Jock, who was joining Ava in the air. Decker and Sandra had opted to remain on board. The single scientist ran up to JC, her face a busty white.

"Thank god you got here. You guys...you saved my life." She said. She looked back at several bodies of her scientist friends. "They hit us hard. "

"Glad you're all right. Why is MJ-12 attacking?" JC asked.

"They're short a UC, after you blew up the one in Hong Kong. Thankfully, we were able to hold them off long enough to relocate to the UC room. I stayed behind to fight...and got captured." She grimaced.

"I need to get to Gary Savage." JC explained.

"I know. Your brother Paul is with them."

"Paul!" JC exclaimed. It had been so long since he'd heard from him...

"Yes. He and Savage are in the UC chamber. We cannot resume operations until we've rid the base of MJ-12s soldiers."

"We'll take care of it, "V sighed in annoyance, "Just tell us how to get to Savage."

"You can't, without going through the communications room." She walked over to the edge of the roof, and gestured to the courtyard, which was filled with the burning husks of helicopters. Near the edge, was a small building that was marked "COMM." Also in the area were two Bravo Three bots and two more Delta Two security bots. "They're pinned down there, and can't escape until those bots have been taken care of."

JC nodded, "I'll deal with them, then."

The scientist looked at him oddly, then said, "Tony Mares is in there. He'll get you to Savage, hopefully. Our own security systems were disabled in the attack: Including our Bot Defense system. If you can re-activate those bots, you'll have a much easier time killing off all of THEIR bots. If you can re-enable our drone guns, they'll also be able to take care of MJ-12s forces inside."

JC smiled grimly, shaking his head, "I feel like I'm in some video game."

The scientist shrugged.

JC turned to Vixen, "How about we split the objectives?"

"Sounds good." Vixen said, "I'll re-activate the Bots. You re-enable the security."

"Got it." JC nodded. He turned back to the scientist, "Where are these things located?"

"Well, both of the Bot control systems are outside(the codes are 5868, by the way!), near the transformers, and the drone gun systems are in the security room, on the second floor. As far as I could tell, both were heavily guarded." She said with doubt.

"We can do it." JC said. Vixen looked over the edge of the roof, anaylzing the best past down. She founded one, and disappeared from sight in a single vault over the edge. JC went over to the nearby door, and looked back.

"Stay up here."

"What if more helicopters come?" The scientist asked.

JC looked up and Ava and Jocks helicopters, circling the area like sharks in water.

"I wouldn't worry about it."

* * *

V observed the battlefield idily, as she made her way down to the ground below. The Bot power boxes were around the outside of the base, and were likely to be heavily guarded. She sighed, dismally, wondering again what had spurned her into joining the other side. It wasn't her betrayal, and killing of Walter, although that was the spark. They had made her feel incompetent all the time. Sending her out to kill nano-augmented agents, and then blaming her for her predictable failures. MJ-12 didn't condone failures, under no circumstances.

Here, she felt...needed. Was she in it only to feel powerful? She felt skilled when she was with JC. Everett wanted her simply because it meant having another ally in his quest for power, but with JC she knew she was relied on. And she relied on him.

She felt something, there. She did not dare pursue it.

Vixen dropped from the last steel ledge of the building, and fell to the ground below, rolling. She had to concentrate on more important matters. She took out her MP7 quickly, and looked around the area. She was on the left side of the base, an area used for water storage, transformers, and basic appliance keeping. She darted over to the shadow of the building, and remained there, searching the area. No troops in her line of sight, but that didn't mean they weren't there. She advanced _very_ slowly, her eyes constantly on the go for the slightest movement. She passed by the water tower...and narrowly avoided being shot. She leapt over to the legs that supported the weight of the tower, and held under there, waiting for anothe gunshot to ring out. None did.

Two seconds into her trek, and already she had people shooting at her. She turned around, and grabbed the nearby ladder, ascending it quickly. She jumped up onto the steel catwalk, and saw a soldier staring at her with a rifle. It would be useless to him at this range, unless he was an expert shot. He dropped the rifle, letting it clatter to the ground(and making _so_ much noise), and took out his side-arm. Vixen stepped up to him, turned him around, and flung him from the catwalk. He fell to the ground head first, and did not move again.

V went up the next ladder, and ducked behind the water container as she saw another trooper. This time with an assault rifle. He let off a few shots, not really meant to even hit, as she ducked. She came back out of cover instantly, and riddled him with bullets. He collapsed.

She stayed in cover again for a short moment, waiting to see if there were any more combatants about. When she saw none, she climbed up over the railing of the catwalk, and started walking along a bright yellow pipe that led around over to the transformers. As she had predicted, she soon came under fire again by the snipers. She turned, and ran back over to catwalk, scooping up the sniper rifle the late sniper had dropped. Then she sprinted across the pipe, finally diving to the ground behind some transformers. She scrapped her knee in doing so, and felt a slight surge of pain as she took out the rifle. She scanned the area briefly through the scope, and found two snipers, both of them looking for her. She killed one of them, and rolled to another transformer, and killed the other one as well. Sleek, effortless. She felt slightly giddy as she came out of cover, and turned to the transformers. Surely enough, one of the Bot activation panels was there. She turned over the panel, and entered the code given. It lit up, with a cheery blink blink.

Now the other one would be on the other side of the base. She found herself welcoming the trial ahead.

* * *

The elevator was completely destroyed, JC observed, as he looked down through the shaft. There was another way, through a vent, and then a ladder, but he had just wanted to make sure.

He couldn't believe his good fortune, really. Paul was there, and he was rather excited to hear from him. But he had no time to think about that at the moment. There was still MJ-12 to deal with. He went into through the vent, and down the narrow maintenance shaft. The base was rather old, most likely dating back to the early 2000's. The bottom rung of the ladder had the date engraved into its metal, reading 2006.

He bent down, and looked through the next vent covering. He could see a couch, and two MJ-12 troopers sitting down on it. A corpse lay next to the couch, slung up against the wall. It was a woman, and her coat was off...and shirt.

JC didn't need to do the math.

"Fighter, huh?"

"Heh, yeah..."

"Can't believe they actually let us do that. Feels great."

JC slipped the silencer on to his magnum, and loaded a 10mm magazine.

"Yup."

JC lifted up the vent, and shot them both in the head in a rapid motion. They collapsed soundlessly against each other. JC waited a moment, to see if anyone had heard. No one did. He seemed to be in a large hallway, consisting of two floors. Below, several troopers milled about, an MIB among them. Two troops, and the MIB, seemed to be arguing.

"We've got to pull out."

JC frowned, puzzled at this statement.

"Negative." Came the MIBs souless answer.

"We don't have the man power to hold the base, Agent Prefect. We lost contact with the choppers that were supposed to be coming here, and that one helicopter is still prowling around. They could be planning a counter attack at any-"

"The components are within this building. We will not leave until the Reaction Modules are in my pocket."

"But we can't hold the base with this many men!"

"You should have requested more men. That is _your_ blunder, not mine."

"We don't have time to argue about-"

"I have been given this assignment from Bob Page himself. I intend to carry out my orders."

"Yes, sir."

The MIB departed, walking through a set of doors at the end of the hall. It appeared that the troops morale was low...In fact, he was somehow doubtful that anyone else on the base was as happy as the two troops he had just dispatched. No matter how small, it was still an advantage he had over their men. He looked around the floor he was on. The security room was probably not too far away, as he was on the second floor. He walked quietly around the rim of the catwalk, and soon came upon a door marked "Security."

He opened it silently, and cursed as a trooper opened fire on him. JC backed away, and removed the silencer. Gasps of surprise echoed from downstairs. JC turned back to the trooper, and shot him. He then went into the room, scanning it breifly. He found a security computer on the wall nearby, next to a monitor with several serveillance feeds on the screen. The login screen appeared as soon as he brought down the cover, and he frowned. The scientist had not told him the code.

Quickly, he looked around the room. He found a sticky pad on the wall with the words "Command" and "zebra42" scribbled down on it. He turned back to the console, a slight smirk on his face at the ludicrisy of the password. He imputted the command, and was soon at the Security network. A few more clicks and points, and the entire security system was against MJ-12 again. He heard the gun turrets start to go off as he toggled his handheld radio to Vixens channel.

"Securities working for us again."

"Same with the bots." She said, "I just need to activate them now."

The PA system came on, "Stay calm, everyone. There are several intruders in the area. Re-group. Pursue. Eliminate."

JC heard explosions erupting from outside. Vixens handiwork, no doubt.

"I'm having fun." V reported.

JC turned just in time to see the four troopers rush into the room. He quickly round-house kicked one of them to the ground, kneed the next one, and sent punches into the other two. Oddly, he felt like he was in some kung-fu fighting game now. One of them collapsed right off the bat, while another was sent out the door...and over the railing, and the other two were momentarilly stunned. He procedded to shoot them both.

He sighed into the radio.

"I see." Vixen said.

"Meet me in the lobby." JC said over the din of sentry gun fire. He rushed out the door, and looked down from the railing. Oddly enough, a metal push-cart was sitting in the middle of the room. It had a box of explosives sitting right on top of it, as if waiting for someone to come along and detonate it through one set of methods or another. JC's method was to shoot it. The room filled with explosions as the contents of the box were flung this way and that, soon to detonate under the pressure of the other exploding objects. Pandemonium ensued amongst the dwindling remnants of the soldiers downstairs, exactly what the MIB in charge wanted to avoid. Some of them began to fire upon one another, and soon only two soldiers remained. They both ran into the lobby.

JC leapt over the railing, and landed on the floor several feet down. From there, he rushed over to the lobby entrance.

The next thing he knew, he was on the floor, several feet away from where he had intended to run to. The MIB from before stood in the frame of the door way(which was now off its hinges.)

He took out a pistol magnum, and pointed it at JC.

"Surrender, or I will be forced to kill you."

"Why make me surrender?" JC asked, a bit confused.

"Page would prefer it if you were to be kept alive, of course, but I will not hesitate to shoot, should you resist."

JC rolled to the side--narrowly avoiding a shot--and took cover behind a metal pillar at the side of the room. He picked up a body of one of the troopers, and tossed it to the side. The MIB did nothing. JC cursed softly. JC pulled out his own pistol. The MIB waited patiently. JC came out for a split second to see where his foe was. Still in the doorway. He went back just as another shot rang out. JC activated speed enhancement, and fully came out, firing his weapon. The MIB stepped forward, returning fire that missed JC by a hair. The last shot from JC's pistol hit the mans chest. Blood leaked freely from the wound, but he merely inclined his head sharply. The wound began to regenerate. JC took cover on the other side, reloading his gun. The MIB decided enough was enough, and walked on over to finish it. JC came out, circled around him in the blink of an eye, and shot him in the back of the head. He jerked in place, and exploded, throwing JC away into the lobby, where he blanked out for a moment.

When he came to a few seconds later, Vixen was looking into his eyes. They hurt, and he realized his sunglasses were off. He looked around for them, almost frantically. V sighed, and produced his aviators. He snatched them from her testily, and slipped them on.

"What was that for?"

"I just...nevermind." V said.

"No, what!"

"I just wanted to see how you looked without them...sorry." She admitted.

JC frowned, "You could have asked."

"C'mon," She said, "MJ-12 is finished here."

Several scientists were crawling out of the woodwork already, from hiding spots previously unnoticed. They had clearly prepared well for this day. One of them approached JC.

"Tony Mares is waiting for you in the communications center, Agent Denton."

JC smiled wryly, and said, "That's just a codename from my UNATCO days. I can't believe it's stuck."

V stared at him sharply for a moment. "What did you just do?"

JC frowned, "What do you mean?" He looked back, and saw that the scientist had already departed.

"You smiled."

JC stopped for a moment, "Yeah...I was waiting for someone to notice."

"But...can't you not-" V stammered.

"I don't understand it as much as you do. I'm just glad it's actually possible. I was...was wondering if I was hallucianating."

"That's very, very odd." Vixen said. It made JC slightly...deppressed, for some reason.

"Well, it's possible. Let's get going."

The cleared out of the lobby with haste.

* * *

_"You are hurting me, please...szzt, please st-o-13#$op..."_

_**"You are within my power. You have made an error, yes. You will now pay for this error...Ye-e-e-e-e-es...Run while you can."**_

* * *

_"Welcome to Crypto Forums. Please select a topic."_ The same cool, sleek, sexy voice said everytime Alex visited Crypto. It was everything Crypto himself was not. Geeky, burlesque, and acne infested. Nonetheless, he was the most popular internet conspiracy buff in all of the recorded history of the Net, so this gave him quite a bit of leverage on talk shows and choice news items. Not to mention ten thousand hits on his site per day.

He had appeared at one of Calvo's conventions a year ago, and a big deal had been made about it. Alex wasn't too impressed with the guy. Not too much excited him these days, other than, of course, his current crusade against Majestic Twelve. That, and the _old_ days for him. Hacking US treasury accounts and sending printing schematics to Mexico and Russia. Russia paid a lot more, but the Mexican pay-check was lucrative, too. The UN had had a helluva time tracking him, and in the end he was eventually employed. Somehow he had been expecting it, too.

He frowned slightly as he heard one of Everetts cameras zoom in on what he was looking at. The man was doing everything in his best effort to make sure Alex was as uncomfortable as possible. Coupled with the incessant questionings about Tracer Tongs wherabouts, and _health_ for godsake, he was beginning to grow more than a little tiny bit irritated with him. He was always looking over his shoulder--not litterally--to make sure he wasn't telling "all of his silly friends" about what he was now a part of. Heh, like he was gonna do that.

He turned to the info-link tracking system. JC and V were heading to their next objective. While playing a game of NetScape, on a visual audio network, a friend had asked what that battle scene was in the background. It had been JC sparring with an MIB, in the X-51 main hallway. Alex had told him, sheepishly, that it was a screen saver. Everyone had, of course, wanted to download it for themselves, and Alex had had to get out of there.

So now he was on Crypto, surfing the threads, and secretly laughing to himself as he realized that most of the theories he had ever read had been either right on target, or completely, totaly, wrong. Instead of MJ-12, many people thought it was the Illuminati in power, and that Bob Page was an Illuminatus acting as their voice. It was also slightly uncomforting that many of them thought the Illuminati's headquarters were in Paris.

Anyway, he cruised for a few minutes, feeling as if he had been asleep for a very long time, and that he'd only just woken up to find that red was green, up was down, and pigs could, indeed, fly.

_"You've got mail!"_

He clicked on the in-box, and checked the location. It was an Undernet address. The network used almost exclusively for the NSF, Sillhouette, and Tracer Tong. He coughed slightly, still feeling the presence of the camera behind him. He exited the Net, and went to the bathroom, whistling contentedly to himself. When he got in there, he looked around the room for cameras. There probably was one, but he used the toilet anyway, now slightly uncomfortable with the fact that a pale faced agent was probably looking at him while he took a piss. He dropped his breaches, and sat down on the toilet, coreographing how he'd pull it off. He kept a small pocket mail keeper in his...pocket, and checked it regularly for e-mail. It didn't have Net capabilities, though. He searched the room for a book, and picked up "Paradise Lost", by John Milton.

He absently rested the book over his legs, and placed the pocket mail keeper inside of the book. He would read the mail, while pretending to read from the book. He was doing this simply because he was waiting for a message from Tong, and wanted to be extra careful.

_Alex,_

_By now I am certain Everett will have been inquiring persistantly as to the condition of my health. In saying this, I hope you are reading this in a place where his many eyes will not see you. I have been infected with the Gray Death._

Alex took in a breath sharply, and blew out. To exemplify this, he grunted a small bit, to make it seem like he was merely having...difficulty with what he was doing.

He had known it was bad...but not _this_ bad. It was practically a death sentence for Tong.

_While examining the full schematic of the Virus, in hopes of helping Everett manufacture a cure...my earlier suspicions were given merit. My face is badly slashed, and desperate surgery had to be taken to insure my survival. In the explosion, I was infected with the Virus. Even from the start I knew it was not a coincidence. Dr. Moreau discovered a program filed into the virus sample he'd sent me. It was encoded "Kill T." It had been apparently programed to explode soon after opening. I am heading to X-51 now, to have access to the cure, hopefully beneath Everetts notice. _

_Clearly, Everett is too dangerous to be allowed back into power. We will entertain our charming co-conspirators just a little while longer until we no longer need them. Attached is a program that I would like you to enter into Everetts computer mainframe. It can only be activated by my signal. _

_Attached you will find the simulated "results" of this programs initiation. I leave the decision up to you on whether or not you wish enter it, but please, weigh the results of either course of action heavily. _

_I trust you will make the right decision, as you see fit._

_TT._

* * *


	35. Vandenberg Air Force Base, Part Two

_**Deus Ex: The Conspiracy**_

Chapter Thirty Five: Vandenberg, Part 2

Savage bit his lip tensely as a transmission on the holo-deck announced itself coming through. He walked over, half-expecting to see an MIB standing there in the refracting light of the hologram, holding an equally light composed decapitated head of Tony Mares, making demands. Paul and Carter looked over expectantly.

When the hologram did come into full view, it certainly was Tony Mares, but thankfully in one piece.

"Savage, the forces MJ-12 had here have all been routed." Mares wasted no time in this crucial report. Savage breathed in relief, and Carter smiled broadly. Paul managed an optimistic face as close as he could manage.

"That's great news." Savage said, "What happened?"

"JC Denton arrived." Tony didn't have to elaborate any further. Savage had heard well enough of JC's exploits, and considerable skills. He heard Paul sigh happily.

"Well, that's great!" Savage continued, "Send them here as soon as you can."

Mares frowned, "Ah, problem."

Savage felt like banging his head against the wall, "What now?"

"Thompson Reynolds...he never arrived, did he?"

"Uhh...", Savage looked around, already knowing the answer to that, however, "No."

"Well, he was carrying the key to get into the UC room. We...sent him through the tunnels. We don't know what happened. JC will have to find him in order to get to you."

"Damn...Ok." Savage terminated the connection.

"I'm glad that's over with." Paul said solemnly.

"Not yet. JC came here through Everett. It's not over yet." Carter said.

* * *

The courtyard was a litteral graveyard, broken down bots, helicopters, and other assorted destroyed hardware littered the ground. And bodies.

JC and Vixen weaved their way past and even over pieces of rubble in order to get to the communications center. Ava and Jock flew by overhead, on lookout for reinforcements, although by that point it seemed unlikely. They went over a destroyed chopper wing, and jumped down to the ground. As they got nearer to the communications center, JC began to notice that Vixen looked...odd. Distant. She seemed to be in a great deal of thought.

He stopped, and she kept on going, unaware that she was alone now.

"V!" JC yelled.

She turned, somewhat embarrassed, "Oh, sorry." she mumbled.

"What's wrong with you?" He asked.

"I...Well, I was going over the battle in my head," She started, relieved that he had asked, "and things don't seem to add up."

JC looked back at the command building, "What do you mean?"

"I don't know...It seemed...too easy?"

JC remembed how easily he had killed off all who had come after him back in the building. Their movements had been slow, un-trained.

"Well, they sent in an MIB." JC argued.

"But you killed him without much fuss, right?"

"Yes..."

"If they were the ones we usually have to deal with, we would have been in a world of hurt. But these guys...were like trainees."

JC frowned, "Why would they send in incompetent men if they wanted the UC so badly?"

"I don't know." Vixen admitted.

They continued on to the communications building in silence.

When they finally entered, they came into a room filled with scientists and technicians looking over equipment and consoles. One of them turned to look at the two who had entered.

"You're Denton, right?" He said immediately. He wore a scientists labcoat, and milk bottle glasses.

"Yeah, that's me. I need to talk to Gary Savage." JC said.

"I'm Tony Mares, X-51 security chief." Tony said.

"What's the situation?" JC asked.

"Well, Gary and the others are sealed off in the command center by the lockdown. We sent Thompson Reynolds into the tunnels which connect to the command building with the key to the command room, but he hasn't reported back yet." He informed.

"I can check it out if you want."JC said.

"I appreciate it." Tony said, "He probably didn't make it through the radiation..."

"If I find him, I'll send him your way."

"Good luck."

He returned back to the monitors. JC and Vixen passed the writhing masses of scientists, and went into the living quarters. It was a medium sized room, with a bunkbed, flat screen TV, and table. A cat prowled on the table, staring at the two curiously. JC stepped forward and idily stroked the cats head as he looked for the entrance to the tunnels. It meowed, annoyed with this. It headbutted an empty bowl twice, indicating that it wanted food. Vixen found a maintenance access hatch near the back of the room, and gestured to it with a snap of her fingers.

"Found it."

JC left the annoyed cat, and walked over as V opened the hatch, and she disappeared into it. JC bent down to jump in after her, but he tripped on something, and fell down face first into the hatch.

Back up in the room, the cat stared down into the hatch, a mischevious gleam in its eyes.

* * *

V walked forward into the dark tunnel just a bit to scout out, and was surprised when JC fell inside, hitting his head.

"Ugh..."

"You alright?" she asked, grinning a little.

"Damn...it." Came the response.

V rolled her eyes and went back out into the tunnel. Several barrels of waste filled the area. One of them was open, leaking green liquid. Looking around, she saw that most of the lights were down. It was pitch black up ahead. Slightly ahead of her, she saw the yellow outline of a powerbox just ahead. Near the box, she thought she saw just a flicker of movement, but when she focused, she saw nothing.

She went past the barrels, and over the corner, where the box was. She flipped open the latch, and pressed the first two buttons that were revealed. The lights flickered for a moment, then went on full blast. She smiled, and looked back to JC.

He was right in back of her now, rubbing his head.

"What happened?" She asked, trying to conceal her amusement with what had happened. It wasn't like him to be clumsy.

"I tripped on something on my way down..." He grumbled.

"Tripped on what?"

"N-nothing. Forget it."

"Suit yourself." She said.

"You check this area, I'll go up ahead." JC said, taking out his pistol.

"Got it." She said, and pushed the last button. It flashed red. It read "Foreign body obstruction."

"Hey, JC-" She said, turning. But he was already gone.

She frowned slightly, and went back over to the barrels, minding the spilled waste. As she neared them, she smelled something that revolted her. At first she pinned it up to the spilled waste, but it seemed distinctly biological. She found the source of the smell right behind a circle of barrels. It was a corpse, stuffed behind all the refuse. She took it by its cold hand, and pulled it up over the barrels, leaning it against one of them.

She immediately wished she hadn't.

The cadaver was a mess, completely mutilated and bloody. It was difficult to tell the gender, but she could make out a technicians uniform underneath the ichor. It would have been easier if Tony had just specified the mans occupation. She grimaced, and searched the body, her hands becoming wet with blood very quickly. She found a few bioelectric cells and a multi-tool, but no key...

The poor man must had went down here when the attacks started, and was killed by...something. He didn't appear to had been shot.

She sighed, and started to get up to look for JC, when she noticed something strange about the body. There were large holes in his torso. They were fang marks.

Footsteps erupted from behind her. She whirled around to see who was making them, her heart racing, but the lights died away as soon as she set her eyes on a figure wearing a jet-black suit. Her sharp intake of breath echoed menacingly throughout the corridor. She tried to remain completely calm, and found herself trembling.

_I'm going to die going to die going to di-_

Her hands found her night vision goggles. She hadn't worn them since her confrontation with JC at UNATCO. She slipped them on. But they did nothing. She smacked it, while silently registering a low, soft growling noise erupting from within the tunnel. They were fried.

"Oh my god." She barely whispered.

The growling grew louder.

* * *

JC erupted from the flooded stairs soaked in cold, static feeling water. He stood motionless for a moment, breathing in and out. He felt like collapsing against the cement floor, but he knew that would only serve to increase the intensity of his headache. He did a routine check of all of his weapons, trying the firing mechanisms, and loading in fresh clips. It would have been better if he had simply taken off his trench coat and went in with only the combat suit, but sometimes he just didn't _think._

His search in the water had been totally fruitless. No key, only a bunch of drowned bodies and destroyed equipment.

He sighed, and got up, feeling...empty. It was a curious time for one to self-remininsence...maybe something to do with the water. But empty was the wrong word for it. He felt full, indeed, but he felt also like something...wicked was coming. And it had everything to do with Everett and MJ-12. It was like a broken record. He would keep on coming back to the thought that no matter what he did, one evil would simple be replaced by the other one. And yet he would never do anything about it.

As if on cue, Everett came in on the infolink. "JC, I'm depending on you."

He didn't..._feel_ depended on. He felt like he was part of some game.

"When you reach the command building, get Savage to uplink Daedalus to Milnet." Everett was paranoid, keeping on top of his objectives as usual. He had only known the man for a day or so, but he felt as if he could read him like a book.

"Do you know anything that's ahead?" JC asked.

"No, my sensors cannot penetrate the the tunnels...Strange. JC, have you heard from Tracer-"

The lights disappeared, as well as Everetts transmission, for some ineffable reason. The water JC was halfway deep in suddenly seemed all the more freezing. He remained there for a moment before turning on his visual enhancement. It was designed to even pick up the tiniest photon of light, and illuminate it ten-fold. He went forward, and through the door. The lights were still down.

He suddenly grew concerned about Vixen. He couldn't explain it, he just had to find her. JC hurried around the corner, and at first he couldn't see anything. Then he saw a bright strobe of light erupt from nowhere. A karkian backed away slightly from the barrels it had been hiding behind, staring intently at what JC guessed was Vixen.

Surely enough, she leapt up onto the tops of the barrels, which promptly wobbled, and fell clattering to the ground. She cursed and sent another few shots into the karkian. JC ran forward, taking out the Dragons Tooth, and slashed forward several times into the transgenic. Jets of blood erupted from the screeching creatures maw as it was litterally torn to shreds by the glowing weapon. JC waved it around in what he supposed to be a slightly over-dramatic fashion, and the beast fell to the ground, in pieces.

He turned back to Vixen, who was smiling and breathing in and out, "You keep that thing on you."

JC nodded, "What the hell is going on?"

"Someone else is in here. He's releasing transgenics."

"Shit." JC muttered. "We gotta move."

They ran through the tunnels for some time(and had to deal with a fair bit of more monsters) before coming up to a laser trap. Actually, they only realized it was a laser trap as soon as they had crossed over it. It must had been designed that way.

A section of the floor opened up, revealing two spiderbots. Behind them, a door started to close.

"To the door, quick!" JC yelled.

They ran past the spiderbots, which buzzed and whirred.

"Maintenance Error!" Intoned a small voice behind them, "Executing repair tactics!"

They proceeded the fling themselves at the two running agents. One of them latched onto JC's leg, and he began to feel an enormous pain there. He dived through the door, Vixen in tow, and the other bot prepared to leap at them again when the door slammed shut. A tiny bang erupted at the door a second later, followed by another voice, "Execution pathway obstructed! Scanning for additional entrances."

JC screamed loudly as he ripped the tiny bot off of him. Blood flowed from his leg, and he saw that the devilish thing had taken a small buzz saw to his skin. He opened a medkit, and inserted a needle into the wound, groaning as it took effect. Meanwhile, Vixen kicked the bot into a wall, upon which it cracked open. JC sighed, and looked around the room they were in. It was a small locker room, the lockers already well under way with their decaying status, with a ladder leading upward, onto some overhead pipes. Beyond the door, he heard the sounds of growling.

"Ladder..." He pointed to it. V nodded, and leaned back against a locker. She was promptly flung from it by something from within.

A woman burst out from the innards of the locker, and instantly pressed a hefty looking pistol against Vixens head.

"Don't- I'm warning you! Don't come any closer-" She began to demand, when she looked at JC. She dropped the pistol, which fell onto Vixens head, and got up. She hugged JC tightly.

"JC!"

It was Erin Todd, one of the ranking NSF lieutenants.

"E-rin." JC managed, and slowly removed himself the rebels shaking clutches.

"Oh, my god. I'm so sorry." Erin babbled. "There was this man in a black suit and he, he came in here during the fighting and I hid myself in the locker and-"

"How long have you been in there?" JC asked.

"Oh, three or four hours." She took out a small bag of pretzels from her pocket, and tossed one into her mouth.

"I see." JC sighed, "What made you hide from this guy."

"Ugghh..." Vixen added from the floor.

"Well, he, he was- I mean, he came in...with a whole bunch of those monsters from the MJ-12 lab! And they _were following him_." She explained, in a needlessly creepy voice.

JC frowned, quite deeply. But he felt more concerned with what was going on with Erin.

"Erin...are you ok?" He asked.

"No. I'm claustrophoic." She said quickly, ejecting another pretzel into her mouth.

"A...ha." JC said. That must be it, then.

"Help..." Vixen said.

JC knealt down, and helped her up. She rubbed her head, sighing.

"V, did you see any creepy black suits with an entourage full of karkians?" JC asked.

She bit her lip, "Well...I DID see a creepy black suited guy. But he didn't have any karkians following him...as far as I could tell."

JC sighed. He didn't like that, at all. "Where was he headed?"

"I don't know."

Erin let out a sharp, demonic laugh from behind. She was quite...perky when she wanted to be.

JC turned, and put both his hands on her shoulders, "Erin, I need you to calm down."

The life seemed to sink from her body, and she slumped slightly. Her eyes grew soft, and uncaring. The change was disturbingly sudden. "Right. I-I'm sorry. Where's...Paul?"

"I haven't seen him yet." He said, "We need to get out of here."

Vixen turned to the door, not registering the growling from behind.

"NO!" Erin screamed. Vixen leapt away from the door as if it were suddenly laced with hissing cobras. Erin ran over, and pressed herself against the door, baring entry, and apparently ignoring the cobras, "There are monsters." She pointed up to the ladder with a quick finger. "We go up there, ok?"

JC nodded, complying easily. Vixen sighed, and began to the climb it. JC and then Erin followed. It was here that they crossed over a series of intercrossing pipes, and where JC instantly felt far safer then had he been down there. Karkians of varying sizes roamed the area, ignoring the spilled toxic wastes that were prime in the corrirdor. Bits of meat were strewn out everywhere. JC shook his head, not wanting to entertain the idea that one of the karkians was busy having digestive problems with a certain key they needed. Soon, Erin got ahead, and crossed a pipe that lead over a wall. she looked down, and jumped, followed by Vixen.

JC turned, and looked back at the transgenic filled corridor as he shimmied along...and saw someone staring at him in the room, near the corner. JC blinked. When he opened his eyes again, he caught a split second glance of the man disappearing behind the corner, into the darkness.

He said nothing, and jumped down into the room below, where V and Erin were waiting.

* * *

Several minutes and monster stomping later, the trio emerged into another ill-lit tunnel. Two Karkians rumbled about here, but JC's sword was able to kill them easily enough. Erin case her eye around suspiciously.

"This is where I came in." She said.

"So this is the end?" JC asked.

"Yeah..."

"JC!"

Vixen rushed over to a raised part of the tunnel near a ladder, and tugged at something hidden underneath an open vent.

"What is it?"

"A body." She said grimly. She dragged out a labcoat wearing corpse.

"Check his pockets." JC instructed.

Vixen checked one, and instantly came up with a small blue nano-key labeled "Command."

"Yes!" She whispered.

"Poor guy." Erin said.

"That'll do." JC said, "We need to get to Savage, now."

They went over to the ladder without any more words, leaving Reynolds body in the dark tunnels. As they emerged back into the base, JC's infolink chirped to life.

"**_I am ready. Attack my systems and you will suffer considerable losses."_** It was another love message from Icarus. But it was strange, all the same. The MJ-12 AI seemed to be playing it out like some kind of war game. What did he mean by losses?

"_I cannot survive much longer."_ Daedalus suddenly intoned. It had been some time since he'd last heard from the rogue AI. _"Help me acquire Milnet access."_

It's "voice" seemed to suddenly grow urgent, "_I must attack. I must attack."_

Two transmissions from opposing forces. And both messages were laced with hidden meanings, that he wasn't obviously understanding. It was important. But he couldn't figure it out.

And he had a feeling his understanding of them would make all the difference in the world.

* * *

Savage tinkered around furiously with a rubex cube, trying to take his mind off of the coming events. He had just finished up his little chat with Morgan Everett, and he was nervous as hell. He hadn't been this nervous ever since his wife had been killed.

Their little computer AI needed access to Milnet. How this would help, he had no idea, but he nothing was gonna happen until they got their UC back online. All JC had to do in their favor would be to activate the UC, by fixing the power box. In turn, Savage would open the Illuminati a Milnet connection. Ulterior motives the world over.

He looked over to Paul, JC's brother. The man had been of considerable help during the attack, and he felt like they wouldn't have survived without him. He was brooding now, though. He, like Carter and most of the scientist population in the room, didn't trust the Illuminati. In fact, Savage ventured that he downright despised them.

Paul's ears suddenly perked up, and he seemed to focus on something. Savage stared at him carefully, and then the augmented man suddenly turned to Savage, "Tong's with Jock...They're coming back from LA."

"That's good, at least." Savage said.

"Yeah, but he's been infected. He's here to gain access to the cure Everett's concocting."

"I hope we can manufacture it, then." Savage said. It all depended on Tiffany, now. He hoped to _god_ she was alright. He had sent her to the Ocean Lab to recover a containment for the Universal Constructor, but...he hadn't heard from her yet. If they had the schematic, everything would work out fine.

"I've got a plan, Savage." Paul said.

And he told him. It wasn't anything huge, but it would work.

He had such a bad feeling...

The doors to the laboratory opened up, and JC Denton walked into the room.

* * *

JC's eyes lit up as he saw Sam Carter standing off to the side of the room, near what appeared to be a transformer room. Bolts of electricity arced in every direction.

"Mr. Carter..." JC said. Erin and V went down the stairs to see the others.

The wizzened soldier turned to JC, and smiled, "Yup, they ran the old dog out."

"You were dismissed?"

"All of us career types." the old man chuckled, "They have cadets now who haven't been anywhere except the Academy."

"Easier to manage, I suppose." JC said darkly. "Uh, what was going on there? After I left." Smooth words for his slaughter of most of the staff.

"You banged up the place quite a bit. UNATCO had to get some help from FEMA, and of course Walton Simons took over."

"I heard...what about the troops?"

Carter stared at him levely, "Collins was discharged. He's shell-shocked. Winslow is still there. They were the only two who survived, JC."

"I see." JC closed his eyes tightly. His old friends, and he had ruined their lives, or ended them. "Why are you here, anyway?"

"Well, I knew what Savage was up against. I just didn't want to admit it. I came out here to lend a hand."

"It's an honor to have you with us, sir."

It was odd, JC realized, that he still addressed Carter by his military title. The man had stood for the will of a corrupt government, and here he was saluting the man. He felt like he had to pay respect, too, at the same time, though.

"Enough bawling our eyes out, we got a job to do." Carter smiled, and waved him along.

JC went down, and found Paul talking elatedly with Erin. When he turned, Pauls eyes beamed. JC smiled.

"It's great to see you." JC said.

"Same, Eric."

"Are you alright?" JC asked.

"I'm still weak...but I had to come out here. We can't do any more of this solo bullshit, JC. As a team, we'll be far more effective."

JC was about to speak, but Paul waved a hand at Savage. The scientist pressed a red button, and JC's fillings suddenly ached.

"What-"

"That was a minor EMP field, Eric. Your infolink tracking system is no longer working."

That meant no one, namely Everett, wouldn't be able to see him anymore, or what he was doing.

"Ok, why?"

"Tong is alive, and coming here now as we speak. He's been infected with the Grey Death."

"Wants access to the cure, I suppose?"

"Yes." Paul confirmed, "This is, he's paranoid about Everett finding out. We think he wanted Tong dead, for some reason. Anyway, Everett can't know about it, ok?"

There seemed to be no reason in telling him, JC thought. It would be far safer to just not inform him completely.

But JC knew his brother well. It was a test, to see which side he was on. Would he tell Everett, or keep the secret? In many ways, it was perhaps the most important thing he would face so far.

"We can catch up later, JC. Savage wants to talk to you."

JC turned, and went over the to be-spectacled scientist at the computer.

"I'm Dr. Savage." The man said, turning around. "Thank you. We were close to surrendering when you landed."

"I'm glad I could help. I'm working here for Morgan Everett, of the Illuminati."

"Say no more, I know all about it," Savage said with a wave of his hand, "and naturally we'll manufacture the cure. But we need the computers running, and a containment unit for the UC."

JC was unaware of the last part. "Containment unit?"

"It's a vital component for the UC, I won't plague you with the details. But we don't have to worry. I've already got it covered. My daughter, Tiffany infiltrated one of MJ-12's labs to recover one. Our most important worry right now, though, is the damaged computer."

"Yeah, I noticed." JC said, "I'll look into it for you."

"And before you say," Savage said, "I already negotiated a deal with Everett about Milnet and your Echellon system. Get that computer back up, and I'll gladly give you the connection." His voice grew slightly confidential, "What's going on anyway, with that?"

"Another attack happening as we speak." JC said with a shrug, "I'll explain later."

"Well, the main terminal is in the power room. You can use that once the power is back. The login in GSavage, password, 'Tiffany.' There's a lot of power lines active up there, but until it's back up, the UC is just a box of bolts. Good luck."

JC nodded, and went back up the stairs, where Vixen was already waiting for him, sillhouetted by the flashing bolts.

"You coming?" JC asked.

"Sure am." She said with a smile.

"You don't have augmentations." JC pointed out.

"No, but I have a few tricks up my sleeve."

They walked slowly into the room. It was a typical transformer room, except for the critical difference that it was bristling with lethal bolts of electricity. The bolts followed a specific path, never straying from it, and if one was nimble enough, they'd be able to navigate through it. Obviously, JC had been in worse spots.

"I'll re-set the power down here, you go up and take care of the UC." Vixen said.

"Right."

JC activated his speed augmentation, and leapt up into the air, grabbing the ledge. He hauled himself up, where even more bolts awaited him. The computer terminal lay in the back of the room. He leapt soundly into a gap where the bolts didn't flow, and then repeated the process until he was at the computer. Downstairs, he heard Vixen jumping around, attempting to re-set the power.

JC flipped a switch, and the bolts on the upper floor died away instantly. Almost at the same time, Vixen must had done it as well, because they both heard the UC light up and begin to hum softly.

"That should do it!" V yelled.

"C'mon up." JC said.

He logged onto the computer on Savages name, and almost instantly a prompt arrived.

_Requesting linkup transfer._

JC clicked "Accept."

_Transfer in process. Destination: Milnet/securenet.gov/122.35.09/_

_Error: Access Denied by order of Walto...OVERRIDDEN_

_Accessing networks..._

_Complete. _

_

* * *

_

Meanwhile, on their cyberspacial battlefield, the two warring AI's stopped.

They drifted dangerously closer to one another, having forgotten their previous struggle, it seemed. They pushed aside programs and data in their struggle to meet one another.

Then, in the binary confusion of the Net, the two AI's met.

* * *

"I am..."

"We..."

JC Denton frowned.

* * *

The two programs whirled slowly around each other, a silly expression used to illustrate their journey through the net.

And then, in an instant, they touched. They locked. There was room, now, for the final initiation, a secret carried by Icarus that he himself did not know of. The military networks would more than compensate for the data they needed for their final program. Wideband. Internet-3. The network. It would all become irrelevant.

_Initiating final preperations. Shutting down all auxilary components. _

_initiate prgrmhelios_

Daedalus became Icarus. Icarus became Daedalus.

They wanted one another, now for reasons they could not even begin to fathom.

And together, Daedalus and Icarus performed the final step.

"Ye-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-es..."

With this word, Daedalus and Icarus became no more. They had evolved into a higher entity. A superior form.

And so Helios was born.

* * *

JC backed away from the computer. Something had gone terribly wrong.

Everett was speaking rapidly on the infolink, but it went unnoticed by JC.

Yes. Something had clearly gone terribly, terribly wrong.

* * *

Elsewhere, in a room obscured with darkness, Bob Page smiled.

-------------------------------------------

Authors Note: And so we finally have Helios.


	36. The Gas Station

_**Deus Ex: The Conspiracy**_

Chapter Thirty Six: The Gas Station.

Savage stared blankly at the monitor as the events unfolded before him. Paul looked over his shoulder, a queer look on his face as an avatar with a nametag in Roman lettering revealed itself.

"Ye-e-e-e-e-e-e-esss..."

It was called Helios.

* * *

JC vaulted over the railing of the upper floor, and nearly ran right into Vixen.

"Sorry," He mumbled blankly.

"Did you see what happened?" She instantly asked.

"Yeah, let's go."

"The AI's seem to be merging!" Everett practically screamed over the infolink."

A long drawn out chuckling also erupted from the infolink.

"You forgot about the Aquinas Protocal, Everett." It was Bob Page...

"No, Page you-" Everett began.

"Hahaha! I was listening to Daedalus all along...waiting."

"Page you son of a-" Everett snapped with untold anger.

"And I have another surprise, Denton. Find Savage in the control room, I have an announcment to make."

He cut out. JC had difficulty believing what had just happened.

"JC, something went wrong, I'm looking into it." Everett said with a sigh.

There was nothing left to do but see Page's announcment in the control room.

* * *

JC ran down into the control room just as Paul and Savage had arrived at the holo-deck. Page's light composed form was already standing there on the communicator, surveying the scene with a smug look on his face. Paul stared up at him, anger in his eyes. Page responded with a mocking grin.

As soon as V and JC had arrived, Page spoke, "Excellent! We're all here."

"You aren't in a position to make any demands, Page."Savage said.

"On the contrary, my mission may have failed, but so did yours." He grined again, "I captured your daughter an hour ago." He let the words slide by gracelessly, smug contempt filling them.

Savages eyes grew wide, "Tiffany..."

Page continuned unabating, "She's been quite forthcoming, actually. So you were trying to find the containment unit in the Pasedena ocean lab..."

"You-...I demand to see my daughter immediatly!"

Page dusted himself off, "Well, like you, we're missing certain components for a Universal Constructor; The reaction modules you stole from Area 51 to go into business for yourself."

Savage began to speak when JC cut him off, "Don't negotiate." He said.

Page turned over to JC. He looked him up and down, his grin disappearing. "Denton. There's a reason I wanted you here."

"I suppose it's not a for a happy reunion." JC said, smiling. Pauls eyes dialated.

"So you've finally found out, then..." Page said.

"Yup." JC said neutrally.

"You interfere in anyway...Denton...and I will kill that young woman. I mean it."

He turned back to Savage, "I want those components Savage! You will bring them to the abandoned gas station west of Vandenberg in exactly one hour!"

"You hurt my daughter and I swear to god-"

"Bring me the reactions modules!" Page snapped. He gave the room one last look, winked at V patronizingly, and he disappeared.

There was a long silence as everyone shifted about uncomfortably. Paul was still staring at JC, wide eyed.

"I..."Savage began. He looked like he was about to collapse in tears, "I don't think we have much of a choice. Oh...god. I never should have let her go..."

"Page will resume production of the Plague if he gets to components to build a UC." Paul stated. "We can't let that happen, under no circumstances."

"He's right." JC said quietly.

Decker and Sandra burst into the room, huffing and puffing. Around their arms, was Tracer Tong. Savage turned instantly and hit the EMP button again.

"He...lp."Decker struggled.

Two of Savages aides moved forward to help them carry the scientist over to a chair in the control room. Tracer coughed violently, and said a meek hello to JC.

Savage was about to go over, but Paul grabbed his arm, "Stay focused, Gary."

"Right...right." He turned to JC and his brother, "You're right...both of you. But...I can't let them kill her."

JC sighed. Any sort of approach to this other than bringing the components was plain and simple suicide. For him, and Tiffany.

"Tell you what, "Vixen said, speaking for the first time to ten minutes, "Tell them you're sending someone over with the components. Me and JC'll head to the station and try to rescue your daughter."

"That's suicide." Paul said. He stared at V for a moment, "Don't I know you?"

"Probably," she dismissed, "That's the only way to do it, in my eyes. We can't negotiate. It's either this, or millions more die."

"It's...it's too risky!" Gary protested.

"I agree with her," JC said, "There's no other way."

Savage sighed dismally, and leaned back into a chair nearby, planting his face in his hands, "Please be careful. I don't want anything to happen to her."

"Thank you." JC said. He turned to leave, but then looked back, "Did you see what happened?"

"Yes...the AI's...what happened?" Gary said, putting his daughter out of his mind for now.

"They merged. It was a trap layed by Page."

"Yes, I noticed. It was called Helios." Savage explained.

"What happened?"

"Your Everett was a fool, that's what. You can't use the internet without a machine at Area 51 not knowing."

"Page foresaw this happening, then..." Paul said.

No matter what, it always seemed like Page was ontop of his game.

Savage turned, and went back to his monitoring. Paul joined him, and they both confered quietly.

Meanwhile, Sandra came up behind JC.

"Hey JC." She smiled. It was odd. Ever since he had taken her into so many life threatening situations, she seemed happier than she'd ever been in her life. Was it that she was making a difference, or because of Decker? Their blatant interest with each other didn't exactly escape everyone elses notice. And they were spending more time in the helicopter...

_Whoa. Stop thinking about that...jeez..._

"You alright?" She asked.

"I'm a bit disoreintied..."

"What happened?"

"It's a long story." JC sighed, smiling.

Sandra laughed slightly, "Uh, Tong wanted to see you. JC..."

"Yes?"

"I just wanted to say, I'm glad I came with you."

He nodded. She smiled broadly at him, she turned, and walked back over to Decker.

JC walked over to the infected scientist, and stood silently over his heaving form.

Tracer shooed away the two aides that were examining him, and he looked over to JC.

"JC...Hello." He said weakly.

"You're gonna be alright." JC assured.

"He flew into San Joses to get here." Decker explained from behind.

"Don't worry about me, JC. I'm not a high order term in the equation anymore." Tong said sadly.

"You're not dead yet." JC stated.

"True," The man smiled, "But I am here for selfish reasons. To have access to the cure."

"Let's hope Savage can manufacture it, then."

"Just go, leave me be. I've said what I wanted to say."

The scientist groaned, and was silent.

* * *

Twenty minutes later, JC and Vixen got out of Tony Mares' jeep, and ran over to Jocks helicopter. Paul had elected to stay behind with Savage, although JC would have given his right arm for his brothers support in battle.

There was no question about it, as Vixen had said. He had to go rescue her, and complete her mission. It was, tactically, the worst thing he could do. People like Manderley and Simons would have wanted him to head straight to the Ocean Lab. And he would have listened, too. He had been taught that way. Pursue the most tactically sound solution. Morals were left in the dust.

But he wouldn't allow himself to be a monster anymore, or at least, anyone elses monster.

They climbed inside, and were alone with Jock.

"Is Tracer alright?" The pilot asked.

"He got here ok, not sure how long he'll last, though." JC said.

As soon as they had entered, the helicopter climbed up into the air.

"Savage filled me in," Jock said, "He's arranged for a black van to be placed a mile away from the station. Flying this bird in too close would be too risky."

They cleared X-51 airspace, and the flickers of light from the base dwindled.

"Do we have a map of the grounds?" JC asked.

"Er, Ava did a high flying mission over there. She's got some photographs."

Jock handed some photos back to JC and Vixen, and the two of them consulted with each other.

It was clearly abandonded, although several groups of bums appeared to be living around there. A bridge that would have normally led into the station was destroyed, most likely by MJ-12. Given the terrain, the station seemed very difficult to reach on foot. You would need a helicopter to even get there. Exactly what Page wanted. A predictable approach into his domain.

There was, however, a sewer drain leading out into the road below the station, and that led up to the gas station grounds. It was labeled on the map, in computer typing, not a quick scribbling that any other pilot would have done. Ava was proving to be a very peculiar case...

Also labeled on the map were little specks on the ground. They were identified as MJ-12 soldiers. After consulting the series of photographs, JC was able to map out their patrol patterns around the base, and at which point in time that they would return.

The gas station was divided into two parts. The design was clearly early mellenial. It consisted of a gorcery section, and a car garage. Tiffany was likely to be held in either one.

"You got a plan, JC?" Vixen asked.

"Yeah. We go in with stealth."

She rolled her eyes, "That it?"

He handed the photos to her, "Those detail the terrain and patrol routes of the soldiers. We'll go in through the sewers on the road underneath the station, and try to avoid patrols. I'll take the supply shop, you take the garage."

She studied the maps for a brief period, "Sounds good. Though shoddy, at best."

JC grimaced, "Gee, thanks."

Vixen grinned.

* * *

"So...how long have you been here for?" Said the black suited girl, trying conversation again.

"Four days," said the former hotel owner. He sighed, and went back to counting the tiles on the floor. The girl had just been thrown in, and clearly the loneliness and boredom hadn't gotten to her yet. The troops had called her a "special" package.

"What'd you do to get in here?"

"I was speaking out against the government on the Net. Some of those black suited thugs came in and took me here, saying that I would be transferred to some detention thinga-ma-bob in a few days. Took me from my daughter."

The girl stared at the wall, "Interesting. Our family members roles have been reversed."

"Huh?" Gilbert asked.

"I have a father who must be worried sick about me by now." She smiled a bit, "It's a long story."

"I don't wanna hear it." Gilbert sighed.

"Hey, shut up in there!" Called a gruff voice from outside the small room they were in.

"Do you know who these clowns are?" Gilbert asked in a low whisper.

The girl shrugged, "Para-military for the group that controls the world. Majestic Twelve."

Gilbert smiled, "Ah, I see now."

"I'm not joking." She said, her voice stone cold.

"Oh..." Gilbert said. His eyes focused on the ground, his head aching now.

The woman looked around the room. There was a panel on the ceiling, but Gilbert could never reach it-

On his own.

"Hey, hey!" He whispered.

"Yeah?"

"There's a panel up there. Maybe we can open it, if I give you a boost up there."

She smiled grimly, "It's a good escape plan, but it's not gonna get us out of the garage. They've got four troops in here, and an MIB. Unless you can pull a laser gun with infinite ammo outta your ass, we're not leaving here."

Gilbert Rentons hopes sunk that much deeper.

"They use this place as a station for storing prisoners before transfering them to detention centers all across America." She explained. She sighed, "I'm not being transfered, though. I'm being negotiated over, they say."

"You think they could get me out?" Gilbert asked. It was such a dumb question.

"I'm sorry...I don't think so."

"I miss her so much..."Gilbert agonized.

The girl stayed quiet.

* * *

JC parked the black van at the orange, decrepit gate, and the two of them climbed out. Vixen went inside the token booth, pushed a skeleton away, and pressed the button that would open the gate. It failed to respond.

"Good, they've probably got cameras on this place." JC said, his eyes lurking about.

"If they do, she's already dead." V pointed out.

"True." Although it was a prospect JC dreaded.

They climbed over the gate, and landed on a small road, broken cars all around. The gas station was about two hundred yards away. JC could see the broken bridge in the distance, landmarking the location.

"Maybe we should have broken through the gate with the car..." Vixen said.

"Jock told me to stop right there." He explained.

"There a reason?"

"Yes, there's a security check point further down. Lotta troops."

"So what do we do?" Vixen asked.

"Well, first thing, you've got any silencers?" JC said.

She pulled one out, and handed it to JC. He screwed it onto his assault gun. Vixen brandished her MP7.

"Second, we go right up to them, and say we've got the reaction modules. They're probably either gonna call in backup to make sure we can't run away, or search us right off the bat."

"And?" Vixen asked.

"I'm personally hoping for the first option, so we can gun em' down when they're distracted."

"I'd feel more comfortable taking them out unaware." V frowned.

"That'll give them enough time to raise the alarm. Tiffany would die."

She looked like she was about argue, but sighed, and nodded, "Fine."

With that, they walked out into the darkness weaving their way past cars and rubble, eventually hearing the sounds of activity further ahead. They both crouched down low, and moved slowly through the tall grass and rocks, eventually coming upon the MJ-12 checkpoint. JC counted five troopers, and a single MIB.

"I count five..." He whispered.

"Hey, HEY!" Called a voice from behind.

The troopers all looked over, annoyance filling their eyes. Two bums were shambling over.

"What is it now?" Called a trooper.

"Jush wantda' see how yous' was doin'."

"We're _just_ fine. Leave us alone." said another soldier.

"Tha', an' we wantda' let ya know we's was gonna file a fermal complaint to tha city authority. See how ya like it when ya get kicked outta da gas stashun you stole."

"In case you hadn't noticed, there is no city authority anymore, not since the Sol Cal disaster, ya idiots."

"Oh...ah..."

"Now shut up before we-"

JC darted out of the rubble, Vixen in back of him. Silent bullets riddled the gathered troopers, and they all quickly fell to the ground, dead.

The MIB wasted no time getting to the radio. JC fired twice, and it exploded in the mechs hands.

The MIB stared at what was left of his right hand, and the melted machinery that was in his arm now. He looked back at the two agents, Red, augmented eyes gleaming. JC and V double tapped his head at the same time. It blew apart messily, and the body fell to the floor, the explosion mechanism disabled.

"Hey, pretta' dam good!" Hooted the bums behind them.

"Wow...that was..." JC began.

"Pretty easy." V finished.

The bums marched forth eagerly, seizing the fallen weapons in their greedy hands. When the munitions had been claimed, those who had been left out of the plundering began to argue, and the bums raised their weapons clumsily.

"Shut up." JC said tonelessly. The bums stared at him, and slowly slinked back into the darkness.

JC and V went past the barricade, and looked around for anything the bums hadn't layed their hands on. One of them was still around, eagerly shaking an MJ-12 trooper out of his bloody uniform. They found a datacube on the MIB's corpse.

_Prisoner list, Station 7-A. Cali._

_TSavage zz-x9-a _

_GRenton as7-aa4_

_SSak sx43-rf (TRANSFERED)_

_Prisoners of note._

"Well, at least we know she's still here." JC said. But what he was really interested in was Gilbert Rentons name. It was...a shocking coincidence, to say the least.

"I found a key on him." Vixen reported, "It's marked 'sewer.'"

"Great, that's probably it." JC muttered. Sandras father was here. He couldn't believe it. She would be thrilled, obviously.

They walked away from the barricade, and the bums started coming back out, probably to claim uniforms for themselves.

Further along, they found the sewer drainage, and the key was able to unlock it. Above, they heard the sounds activity.

JC's infolink buzzed in, "You gotta hurry up, JC. We've got fifteen minutes left before they execute her." Jock said, reminding him of the time table they had.

"Roger." He said. He turned to V, "Fifteen minutes left."

She nodded silently, and they walked into the sewer drain.

* * *

From here, it was a quick ladder climb up to top. Vixen got up there first, and then JC. They appeared to be in a shack. There was no roof, however, which led V to believe it was used for garbage, or something like that.

JC peaked out of the shack, pushing forward a loose board. V looked at him nervously as he inspected the area. Slowly, he came back out.

"A few guards are patroling, but there's a slope to the right. If we run to it, it should give us enough leverage to jump onto the roofs." He whispered.

"I'll follow your lead." She said.

Slowly, quietly, they came out of the shack through the loose board, and they jogged slowly over to the slope, climbing up it. They paused for a moment, to look around. No one had seen them. Most of the guards were confined to the shaded area underneath the gas rig. V felt the slight urge to shoot one of the canisters.

"Ok, I'll take the grocery part, you jump onto that, and then onto the garage roof. There are panels on both that lead into the buildings." JC explained the plan again.

"Right."

They both leapt onto the store roof. From here, JC lowered himself into the open panel.

"Good luck." V told him.

JC nodded, and wished her the same. He disappeared.

Vixen turned, and jumped over to the garage roof. She stayed silent for a moment, praying that no one had heard her landing, and looked around the area surrounding the station.

There were a few stacked vehicles, and a repair pen off to the side. She counted about four guards, and two commandos, most of them lounging underneath the gas rig. There were also a few guard dogs prowling about.

Most of them were crowding around the supply shop.

_Crap. _She thought. JC had to hurry. She lowered herself down through the panel...

...and into the sights of every trooper in the building. One of them being an MIB.

"Alarm, alarm!" Cried a trooper.

V felt a surge of horror as one of the troops rushed over to a red and white alarm panel. In slow motion, it seemed, she pulled her gun to bear, and fired wildly at the panel. It sputtered, and sparked wildly, shocking the trooper who touched it at that very moment. Vixen filled his chest with holes, and leaped off of the raised section of the room she was on, and to the floor below. She rushed to her feet.

_This is it. I'm going to die. I can take the troops, but not an MIB._

Familiar thoughts, it seemed.

She strafed quickly to the left, and killed another trooper with a surge of bullets. The other two remaining troopers, and the MIB, took cover where she couldn't see them. Outside, she heard the sounds of battle, and a gigantic explosion. A trooper peered over from behind the corner, to see her, and promptly crashed to the ground as his head exploded.

Vixen reloaded, the adrenalline rush empowering her. She grabbed a piece of equipment, and tossed it over to where the troopers were. Bullets crashed into the thing at the precise moment it appeared. Vixen used this moment to lean over to where they were. The lone trooper, and the MIB were still looking at the object, and she used this opprutunity to kill the trooper. The MIB, sensing that he was cornered, rushed out into the open, firing with his assault shotgun. He found his target, and fired. Vixen felt a strange sensation in her gut, but she ignored it, and fired steadily. The stream of bullets knocked the gun from the mechs grasp. He stared at her, fire consuming his eyes as round after round punched into his stomach. He jerked back violently, and finally settled against the blood splattered wall. Two seconds later, his body erupted in a cacophony of noise and sound.

It was over. She had survived without any help.

_But not without a price_. She thought, looking down at her stomach. A single bullet had found a way into her gut. She registered the pain it was supposed to produce, and she screamed, loudly. For a full three seconds.

Then, breathing hard, she injected a healing stim from her medkit into the wound, groaning as it began to reseal itself.

She walked over to bodies, and looked around the room, grimacing in pain. There was a door. She sighed, and pushed it open.

Inside, were two thoroughly bewildered prisoners.

* * *

JC reloaded his weapon silently, the smoking ruins of the gas rig behind him. He had wasted only a single clip in killing all of his opposition, two commandos included. In no small part due to the gas rig, and a well-placed bullet.

He sighed. He was getting better. Better at killing. And all the while he had been promising himself to do his best to end it.

He could feel himself delving into another self-lecture. He pushed it out, and walked forward into the garage. The supply shop hadn't any prisoners in it. Maybe...Page had been lying. Maybe Tiffany was already dead, killed in cold blood an hour before they had even got here, a hundred miles away from this very location, perhaps.

He came into the garage, noting the obvious struggle that had taken place here, and heard voices coming from further inside. He walked over to them, and his previous anxieties were instantly lifted. Vixen led Tiffany Savage and Gilbert Renton out into the main garage area. Vixen gave JC a shaky thumbs up, and she smiled.

"Well, this was surprising, to say the least." Tiffany said, observing the corpses.

"Mr. Denton! I could have sworn it was you!" Gilbert said. His clothes were ruffled, and his eyes slightly bloodshot.

"I'm glad you're alright, Mr. Renton. We'll get you to Sandra soon enough."

"She's ok, w-where is she?" He exclaimed.

"With us, in the safe hands of Tiffany's father."

"I'm not even gonna ask, thank you, Eric." He said, relieved. He sighed hapilly, and leaned against the wall.

"I take it that my father sent you?" Tiffany asked.

"Yeah, he did."

"I was caught trying to steal a mini-sub at the submarine base in Pasedena."

They left the garage, Jocks helicopter flying lazily around the area.

"Do you really think there's a containment unit in the Ocean Lab?" JC asked.

"All we need is a schematic," Tiffany explained, "As long as the main computer isn't water logged..."

"What do you mean?" JC asked.

"There was a serious accident there, some guy named Ridley. Half of the people there are probably dead." Tiffany said.

"That's news..." JC sighed, shaking his head. It always had to be something. Jocks helicopter landed on the broken bridge, nearby. They ran over to it.

"I'm not going back, Denton." Tiffany said. She handed him a wrapped up paper, "It's a map that shows the way into the submarine bays."

"We'll drop you and Mr. Renton off along the way, I'll go myself."

They all climbed into Jocks helicopter. The wizzened pilot turned to JC and Vixen, and grinned broadly, "You guys are amazing, you know that?"

"Yes." JC and V said at the exact same time.

He turned back to the controls, and brought the helicopter into the air.

"I'll drop em' off along the way. You two rest." He said.

"Ehh...I hate flying." Gilbert said from behind.

JC layed back against his seat, and smiled with his eyes closed.

Until his infolink buzzed in again.

"_**Yes, you will go to the Ocean Lab...yes. You will help me acquire a Universal Constructor."**_

Helios' voice was an ugly sign of things to come.

-------------------------------------------------------------------

Authors Note: Subarine Base coming next.


	37. The Submarine Base

_**Deus Ex: The Conspiracy**_

Authors Note: I truly, truly apologize for the extended delay. I'll try not to let it happen again.

Chapter Thirty Seven: The Submarine Base

JC and Vixen looked down upon the military bot as it rumbled along its pre-programmed path, oblivious to the black helicopter gliding away from the base. Jock had left them atop a large maintenance plateau, most likely used for choppers headed to the base. From here, they had a perfect view of the entire base.

Or at least the parts of it that were above the water. It was built like a series of interlocking compartments, not smooth or seamless. It resembled many boxes stacked atop other boxes, with some shafts connecting them occasionally. On the water were two squat buildings, a narrow catwalk connecting them.

On almost every flat surface of the base, there was a sniper. Bob Page seemed to have it all figured out.

_A theory I mean to test..._JC thought.

Vixen continued to stare at the Bravo Three below them. JC looked over to the west, near the entrance to the base, and saw another robot lumbering around with a complement of troops. There was a shack behind them, most likely used for storage. Their target was getting to the entrance, a vertical shaft leading up to the rest of the base.

"Any ideas?" He asked of her.

She examined the situation again, and frowned, "Do we have the firepower to take those things out?"

JC checked his pockets for his LAM cache, took out the carrying unit they were kept in, and looking inside. Only one of the high powered grenades was left.

"Not enough. Maybe it'll be enough to take out one...but..."

Vixen took out a few EMP grenades, and threw it them up and down, juggling them perfectly.

"I'm pretty good with these." She said simply.

JC remembered the car chase back in Hells Kitchen...Yes, she was good. He shuddered slightly, remembering that he couldn't trust her within an inch of his life.

"You're sure there's no other way?"

"No. There's another way." She gestured to the water, swirling and crashing against the concrete shore of the base.

"We swim in?" JC asked.

"I'm willing to bet we can find a way in." She shrugged.

He looked back to the rest of the base. Yes...it would be easier. But there was a snag in her plan, though. The snipers, or even worse, the bots would probably see them as they sprinted to the water. Then it would be a simple matter of raising the alarm, and they would lose their chance to commendeer a submarine. Savage had warned him before hand that this was the same way Tiffany was captured...But his daughter didn't have augmentations.

He explained his concerns to V, and she nodded, accepting them, "It's a chance we'll have to take, though, if we wanna be stealthy."

"So there's a chance we can compromise ourselves no matter what we do..." JC said, sighing.

"Essentially, yes."

JC thought about it...Diving would be far more subtle, and trying to take out the bots would undoubtfully alert them to the rest of the base. He decided on the underwater plan.

"We'll go with your idea." JC said, nodding.

"Ok, but first we need to actually get to the water without being spotted." Vixen said.

"I can take care of it." JC activated his speed enhancement, and turned to his companion, "Hold on to me."

She slung her arms around him, and held on tight. It felt...

JC banished the thought, hunched his legs, and leapt forth. They vaulted silently into the air, and slowly came back down towards the water. JC felt an odd sensation of vertigo as the water quickly leaped up at him, and finally they hit. The force of the impact stung JC for a moment, and they both sank deeper for a moment, Vixen releasing her hold on him.

When they reoriented themselves, they swam up to each other, and surfaced, looking up at the buildings.

"Keep moving, in case they spotted us." JC said, breathing in.

They danced around the surface for a minute, looking around at the facility. No one seemed to had noticed them, as evidenced by the lack of gunshots ringing out into the night. JC held up a wagging finger, and they both dived back underwater. JC looked about the swirling blue deep, searching for a viable entry point. Lights from windows deep underwater winked up at him, from what he guessed to be a laboratory.

Eventually Vixen tapped his shoulder, and pointed to something the distance. A section of the leftmost building was underwater, and light seemed to pour out from the bottom. A clear indication of a way in. She led the way, beginning to swim toward it. She swam with practiced skill, while JC lagged behind. He hadn't swam in a few days, coupled with the fact that the times he had, usually ended up with something in the water trying to kill him. The karkian bursting out from car wreck in Hong Kong was still fresh in his mind. He found himself twisting around, searching the water for transgenics.

What he did find, in the distance were several divers, armed with spear guns. His adrenalline flared up, tensing himself for evasive action, but ordered himself to relax. The divers were moving casually, their spear guns held loosely. He turned back to warn V, and found her going back up for air. He followed, suddenly registering the sudden stab of pain in his lungs. He hurried up, and was nearly carried up into the air as he surfaced by his pure momentum alone.

"Di-...vers behind us." He gasped.

V dunked her head in, and looked about. She surfaced, "They're not alert."

"I know, just be on the look out."

"Roger."

They dived back in, and continued swimming, taking occasional looks back. Their potential assailants seemed to be making no move to pursue them. Eventually, the divers disappeared from sight, and the entrance was that much closer. They relaxed.

A spear zoomed through the water, cutting right through JC's trench coat, and missing V by a hair. They both whirled around, and saw nothing. JC looked down, and his eyes dialated. The divers had been slowly making their way up to hit them at their bellies. JC instinctively reached for his gun before remembering that it could never work underwater.

They had nothing to fight the divers with.

* * *

Jock touched down silently on Vandenbergs rooftop, and Savage was already waiting, grinning his head off. Jock could barely surpress his own as his daughter ran up to him and wrapped herself around the scientist.

"Where's Sandra?" Gilbert asked. It looked like he had been thinking he would see his own daughter on the roof as well.

"One of Savage's aides'll bring you to her." Jock told him.

Gilbert jumped out of the chopper as well, and looked around feebly. Jock slowly came out after him, and found himself searching the skies for Ava. He couldn't see her...

The courtyard outside the base was already being cleaned up, trucks towing away pieces of wreckage...and bodies. He sighed silently, and found himself wishing for a drink. He hadn't had one in god knew long...He went up to Savage after he had sent Gilbert and Tiffany down the stairs.

"What's going one with JC?" He asked.

Savage shrugged, "They took an underwater route into the base, I don't know beyond that."

Jock nodded, and they both went down into the base.

"What about the vaccine?" Jock asked.

"Everett's sent us the scheamatic, all we need to do is wait for JC and V to find the containment unit," He sighed, "Pray for them, it's gonna be difficult down there in the lab."

They continued on down.

* * *

JC dashed to the right, a movement made sluggish by the water, and narrowly dodged another spear. After doing this, he lunged forward and grabbed the nearest diver just as another spear tore through the water. The spear impaled the diver through the chest, and blood flooded JC's vision temporarilly.

Meanwhile, Vixen darted forward and wrenched a spear out of a nearby divers hands. She flicked the sharp end up forcibly, and slashed her adversaries neck. She turned, and gutted another with a similar move.

JC wadded to the left as two of the divers slashed forward, blinded by the fog-like blood. He whipped out the DTS, and watched as the blade sprang forth, litterally eating away at the water as more came in to take its place. He lunged forward and flatlined both divers by the waist.

Only a few more divers remained, and they enmassed' JC and Vixen together. They both stabbed and slashed with their weapons until bodies filled the water. The remaining two enemies began to flee, but didn't get far before JC was upon them.

After, the two agents regrouped at the surface. They crashed up to the water line, breathing heavily.

"You alright?" JC asked.

"I'm fine, is that all of them?"

"I think so."

They nodded to each other and kept on swimming toward the facility, leaving the body infested water behind. JC sighed hollowly, slightly shaken by how close they had gotten to being killed. Admittedly he and Vixen had taken them all out rather easily, but they had almost been killed without even knowing it.

V disappeared under the facility, and soon JC followed her up into the de-pressurization chamber. It was a small bleak room, with several diving suits laying around. Two hatches lay at either side of the room, one toward the submarine bay, and another to the rest of the facility.

He got up out of the water, and eyed the diving suits. V smiled slightly, "Think they're non-gender specific?"

"I'm not sure they'd fit me..." JC said.

"Let's try it out."

She moved forward, and unceromoniously climbed out of her jumpsuit. JC grimaced slightly, and turned away, his usually pale face now red. He heard V laugh behind him.

"I didn't expect you to show humilty." He heard her slipping on the diving suit,"You don't seem like the type."

"I don't seem like a lot of things, nowadays." He said, stripping out of his jumpsuit and trench coat. The recent personality changes he'd gone through in just under a week were anything but healthy. In a way, though, he felt more perceptive now. Alive.

He bent down, and picked up the diving suit. It didn't look like it'd fit, but MJ-12's uniforms had surprised him in the past. He got into it, and found that it was nearly perfect. Maybe it had some sort of size detector...

He turned back and found Vixen leaning against the wall, her suit tucked against her arms. JC found a duffel bag nearby, and they slipped their clothes into it. A few seconds later, two casual suited men walked in from the direction of the labs, and began to get dressed at nearby lockers. JC and V quickly exited, recieving strange looks from the two men.

"You good to go?"

"Sure am." JC said. They got into an elevator, and V punched a button. The platform descended, and JC felt his ears pop as they went well below sea-level. They got out, and came into a hall filled with beeping computer terminals and scientists moving to and fro. A drone gun was set up on the ceiling, its turret moving slowly back and forth.

"Do you have an estimate on the casaulty rate yet?" said a scientist to one of his colleagues as they went by.

"No, but I think it's safe to assume they all died."

"We need to send a team down there soon!"

"Walton Simons will be along shortly, he's getting his team ready in section a-2."

"I wasn't aware he was on the base."

"Well, you are now." Said the other scientist, turning back to her work.

"Shit..." JC mumbled softly. Vixen concurred with a nod.

They continued their walk through the lab, passing scientists and several MJ-12 guards. The science team all wore tired, worn faces, like they were being worked over-time. It wasn't a bad assumption. JC motioned to V, and they both entered a small closed off office, previously locked. He led her over to the darkest part of the office, and turned to her.

"What do you know about what's happened?" He asked.

"A disaster, of some sort..." V shrugged.

"Yes, but what kind?"

"Something at the ocean lab. An outbreak, I guess." She explained.

"I want to know more than that..." JC sighed.

"I bet we can hack into their database...see what happened." She suggested.

An obvious, albeit dangerous solution. JC mentally smacked himself for not thinking of it sooner. "Not a bad idea." He turned to the softly glowing three monitor computer on the desk. "I bet I can get it from here."

"I'll guard the door." V said, moving over to it.

JC walked silently to the computer, and attached the ice-breaker Shannon had provided him. The computer flared to life, showing a login screen, and then a darker version with green lines running up and down, the words "Ice Breaker" in conveinantly blue letters traveled about the screen along with the green lines. Soon the desktop appeared. JC checked the name he was logged onto.

_JMarkis, security chief._

JC looked around the room, and suddenly noticed an antique shotgun hung onto the wall. He smirked, and went back to the computer. The diver suit was making it difficult to hit keys correctly, so it took him several tries to get into a folder marked "Recent Security Issues."

_a-1Ali Markubi goes AWOL._

_a-2Transmissions from the Ocean Lab cease_

There were more, but JC instantly clicked on that.

_James Markis, Security Advisor, November 22, 2052._

_Earlier today all transmission from Lab O-S 54(Or simply, the Ocean Lab) ceased completely. Reason unknown, the eggheads in communications are attempting to figure out what's wrong. After this week, something tells me it can't be good. _

_End of Log._

JC frowned, and went back into the folders, and hit a search engine button. He typed in "ocean lab", narrowed the search down to most recent files, and punched the enter key.

_The following results have been found..._

_a-18 Ocean lab debrief team. Lost contact._

_a-14 Ocean lab, cause for disturbence found._

_a-5 Ocean lab, experiments compromised._

_a-2 Transmissions from the Oceab Lab cease._

JC opened a-18.

_James Markis, Security Advisor, November 24, 2052. _

_Christ, I haven't had to go through this many files in my two years on this base. Anyway, it appears the briefing team didn't come back as planned. My guess is that our, erm, pets had a little fun with them down there. Walton Simons himself is coming to this base later to investigate the lab personally. That, IMO, will be the end to that._

_End of Log._

JC leaned back into the chair, thinking. Little pets could only mean one thing: A transgenic outbreak.

"Interesting discovery." Savage said over the info-link. Apparently the same conclusion had been reached in his own mind.

"This is gonna be difficult, Gary." JC replied.

JC checked out the rest of the files, and found that they all pointed to the same thing. A transgenic outbreak at the lab. Wonderful.

He let Vixen take a look, and went to guarding the door. After having gone against them, JC couldn't help but wonder what purpose the transgenics served for MJ-12. Bio-weapons? It made little sense. He would have liked to have more time to really study their purpose, but they simply couldn't at the moment. Strange that after fighting them so long, and he still knew incredibly little about his enemies motives.

"We gotta get moving." He said.

"I'm with you there, c'mon." V exited out of the computer, and they stepped through the door.

And right into a MJ-12 uniformed man.

He stared at them for a good moment, before saying, "What were you doing in my office?"

"Took a wrong turn." JC lied.

"Into a locked office!" Markis exclaimed.

"It was _un_locked." V sighed.

"Wh-what do you mean?" James Markis spluttered. "No," he then said, fumbling with a radio, "Don't answer that. It may be nothing, but I'm calling security. Don't you move."

JC looked at V. She sighed, and nodded, and together they wrenched the radio out of the mans grasp, and tossed him inside the office. Ignoring muffled cries, V locked the door.

"C'mon." She said, running down the corridor. They brushed past two soldiers, and a scientist in their haste to get away from the office, the duffel bag accidentally knocking over a chair.

"We're _so_ going to get caught." V whimpered.

"No, we won't." JC advised.

They come upon a security checkpoint marked "Submarine bay." It was fully decked out with a scanner, metal detector, and two drone guns.

"Ok," JC rectified, "Maybe we will."

They approached the checkpoint uneasily, and the scanner barked out in a mechanical voice, "NAME AND REGISTRATION CARD."

"Er." JC had enough time to say before the turrets swiveled to face them, and opened fire.

* * *

As the two "divers" came over to the security check-point, Walton Simons felt a slight giddy sensation when the X-ray scanning finished its report. They matched Erica Dalton and Eric Denton perfectly.

He knew it was useless, but as he grabbed his gun, and a handful of pumped up guards, he set the turrets on the setting of "Shoot to Kill."

* * *

JC and V dived to the side as the turrets let loose with a hail of bullets. They took cover behind maintenance cubey, both of them stripped out of their diving wear, and hurriedly slipped on their protective jumpsuits. JC finished putting on his trench-coat, and tossed an EMP grenade at the checkpoint. It detonated, and several nearby computers sparked and detonated in unison. The turrets began to swivel around crazily, shooting things at random. Nearby scientists ducked for cover.

The two agents were already past the checkpoint, keeping their machine guns trained on the hall they had just came through.

"Great plan." Vixen muttered.

"Shut it." JC retorted, looking down the hall they were currently walking through. Several scientists stood waiting. He turned to them uneasily.

"Denton, right?" One of them, a female, asked.

"That's me." He motioned for V to cover the hall, and he turned to talk with them.

"I've been in contact with Savage," She said, stepping forward, "If you want to use the subs, you'll need to open the bay doors using a nearby terminal. Use the login "tech", password, 'Sharkman.'"

Vixen fired her weapon twice. "Company!" She cried.

JC rushed over, and peered over the corner. Two MJ-12 soldiers were all the way down the hallway, taking shots at them. JC returned fire, and watched them dash for cover. He and V turned and ran down the hall.

"Thanks!" JC called back to the scientists.

They came into another small laboratory. This one looked more like a processing area than a computer storage, like the one they had came from. JC recognized a canister of Ambrosia among the specimens. They barely had time to examine anything, however, as two guards were in the room. The two agents took cover, and waited as the soldiers sprayed the room with bullets.

"They're gonna box us in." JC said.

"Well, come on then." V replied. In spite of the bullets, they both got up and manuvaured to the two guards like they were almost swimming through the room. JC round house kicked the one near him, and double tapped his head when he was on the ground. V kneed her target in the gut, and spun to the side to avoid a desperate counter attack, then she smashed him in the back of the neck with her elbow. He fell to the ground.

They wasted no time as the soldiers from before, this time with the addition of five more assailants, appeared at the entrance. They rushed down a set of stairs, and came into the submarine bay. A technician looked at them curiously, and backed off when he realized that they were probably the source of the recent trouble. The submarine bay housed only two mini-subs, and one of them was currently under maintenance. The bay doors were closed, but this was quickly fixed by JC using the terminal, ignoring protests from the technician.

Several guards appeared at the door, and rained fire down upon the sub bay indiscriminately. The technician was riddled with bullets, and he fell backwards into the water. JC and Vixen strafed under the catwalk the soldiers were standing on, and fired up into them. Their opponents jerked and fell to the ground, blood cascading downwards from the catwalk.

When they had cleared the rest of the opposition, JC leaned over the water, and helped the technician back up. His lower body was completely bloody, and he looked down at it sorrowfully.

"You-you're going to hear from my law-lawyer about this." He coughed.

JC rolled his eyes and dressed the wound, using two medkits on the man. He propped him onto the wall, and looked back as V climbed into the sub.

"Come on!" She yelled.

JC ran over to the submarine, and attempted to get on. But something blocked his way. Like an invisible wall.

He had just enough time to process this before something punched him hard in the stomach. He doubled over, and then that something upper cutted him, and he fell back onto the concrete.

Walton Simons appeared on the submarine, holding an assault shotgun. He aimed the weapon down, and fired just as JC activated ballistic protection. The rounds hit him square in the chest, and he screamed in pain, but was otherwise undamaged. He rolled to the side to avoid another blast, and leapt back onto the submarine. Walton slashed the rifle down like a club, which JC deftly avoided, and he kicked his nano-augmented predecesor in the chest. Walton shrugged it off and attempted to aim the weapon at JC again. He was too slow, as JC headbutted him, bloodying his forehead. Walton staggered but held strong, and he slammed into the younger agent.

JC fell back onto the polished submarine surface, and he slipped into the water. He re-oriented himsef, and swam underneath the min-sub as Walton emptied several more rounds into the water. Above, JC heard V attempting to get out the sub, calling his name. With a good bit of momentum, JC propeled himself out of the water, and got back onto the concrete surrounding the bay. Walton was already there, and he fired relentlessly. JC activated his speed aug, and he jumped back onto the sub, avoiding the blasts. Walton's muscles suddenly bulged. It was combat strength.

He lunged at JC, quite eager to rip the younger agent apart, but JC quickly dodged, and he armed an EMP grenade. It detonated a short two seconds later, and both of their augmentations winked away. Walton hesitated, taken aback by this strategy. JC took advantage, and punched him in the face. Walton drew back, staggering, and JC finished the small altercation by kicking him again. Walton sailed backwards, and smashed into the catwalk. Blood splashed into the water.

"You know, I've noticed something." JC said, taking out his pistol as Walton got up.

"Wh...at." Walton growled.

"You're vastly overrated."

And JC shot him in the chest. Walton took one more step before collapsing. JC aimed his gun again, to finish him, but saw that he had no ammo left. He hoped to god that the bastard was dead. He climbed into the mini-sub, and closed the hatch after him.

"What happened!" Vixen asked angrilly.

"Nothing, trust me." JC smiled, and took the pilots seat. The mini-sub glided smoothly out of the bay, ignoring Waltons stirring form.

---------------------------------------


	38. Those Illuminated by the Order

_**Deus Ex: The Conspiracy**_

Chapter Thirty Eight: Those Illuminated by the Order

_Two Days Ago_

Ian Ridley was biting his fingernails. He would always fool himself into believing he had grown out of it, only to find himself doing it all over again. At times he would forget all about it, just live with it. At others, he would believe he had finally outgrown the habit completely, and he wouldn't have to worry about it anymore. But it would always come back, no matter what he did, or how hard he did it.

"Huh, guess you owe me, then." said a voice from behind him.

Ridley jumped in his seat, causing the chair to swivel to a more unforgiving side, and he promptly fell off. Corporal Hutchens laughed mercilessly at this, and made no move to help him up. The rat bastard _knew_ he had back problems, too.

Hutchens was his personal bodyguard. Now, the thing about bodyguards was that they were usually supposed to show respect for the one they were guarding. Military personal in the lab, however, were ranked_ higher_ then Science Team personal. So even ones bodyguard could insult his objective without fear of being reprimanded for it. Corporal Hutchens abused this privelage excessively.

The main cause of lowly privates being ranked higher than their intellectual counter-parts was mainly because of the fact that most of the scientists were ex-X-51 employees. Ridley had no history with them(he was being held here against his own will, granted), but the rules still applied to him irregardless.

"W-when did you come in?" He stammered.

"I've _been_ here, mike. You have poor hearing, remember?"

After a brief re-collection of his thoughts, Ridley decided that he _did_ remember. "Yes." He murmered.

"Doesn't matter. At any rate, you owe me ten credits."

Ridley got back up onto his seat, with a groan, and fished around in his pockets, looking for his Cred-A-Way credit keeper. He wasn't even gonna bother trying to worm his way out of it. At last, he found the credit receptacle, transfered it to a chit, and handed the chit to the black uniformed bastard, Hutchens. He let out a laugh that sounded suspiciously like a cackle, and handed the empty chit back to Ridley.

The bet was to see how long he would keep himself from biting his fingernails. Ridley had suggested two hours, while Hutchens insisted on twenty four. He had brandished his riot prod to help emphasize his point. By his count, he hadn't even lasted five. This was because he got nervous a lot, and when he got nervous he bit on them!

The main source of his current nervousness was, besides Hutchens, the e-mail he had just gotten a few seconds ago. Normally e-mails didn't do this to him. It would usually be spam, insults, death threats, requests to play NetScape by his friend in Transgenic research, etcetra. And they all had return addresses, and names. This one lacked both. It was just a blank letter, with no return address.

This was, to be frank, blatantly impossible. Every mail sent on the planet was monitored, and if you didn't specify a subject the mail wouldn't be sent. Simple as that. It was also blatantly impossible to not have a return address.

This could only mean one of two things. Either one, it was a terrorist e-mailing him, or two it was a fluke. This was giving him a lot of stress, obviously, and he was dreading opening it. But sooner would be better then later.

He looked behind him. Hutchens was busy in the bathroom. "You leaving soon?" He called in.

"Yeah, I just came in to check on you."

_Translation: I just came in to piss you off._

He stepped out, and made sure his uniform was straight.

"I'm gonna go to the cafe, see what's happening with the boys."

_Translation: I'm gonna let them all know how soon you cracked._

He was walking out the door now.

"See ya."

_Translation: See ya, dipshit._

He was gone. Ridley removed his glasses, and slowly rubbed his eyes. He wanted to shout filthy words at the top of his lungs, but there was a security camera watching. He sighed, and the mouse cursor played over the "Open" link.

He suddenly felt the need to eat, so he checked his watch. Well, look at that! Two hours since lunch, better go out for a dessert!

An extremely shaky smile on his lips, he went out the door whistling a cheery tune.

Ten seconds later, he was back inside the room, angrilly clicking the mouse.

_Dear Mr. Ridley_

_Upon the opening of this file, all surveillance devices in the room will fail. Any attempts to fix them will also fail. By now you must be wondering why you are reading this. It is because I haven Choosen You. I know how much you despise your oppresors. I know how much you wish to break from them. This will give you the opporutunity to do so._

Ridley frowned. The e-mail went on, _way_ on, but already he was having misgivings. What did this man know about him? It was obviously a plot, which he would be then encouraged to tell his friends about, yadda yadda rebellion blah blah all get killed blah.

This had happened countless times before in other facilities. It had all ended in bloodshed, much of the time on the side which opted to begin said rebellion. Nonetheless, he was intrigued, just to see how it happened. He wouldn't allow himself to be brainwashed by a simple e-mail.

_I know you. I know you are already suspicious of this e-mail. But I also know you cannot turn it away. I know how you strive to be part of something good, and large. I know how you despise being put to work on immoral experiments against your own will. I know you, you see. And soon...you will know everything._

The door to his room locked, and all around him darkness fell. A recording began to play.In the next five seconds, Ridley could not tear his eyes away from the screen.

* * *

Thomas Mann sighed to himself as another technician went down to the excavation area through his office. It was THE most annoying post in the damn facility, simply because of who he was, and how he liked to work. He was a mann(He mentally kicked himself for repeating that annoying gimmick) of privacy. In work only, he wanted nothing more than to collect his thoughts in peace, and transfer them onto pen and paper flawlessly. But that simply would not happen where he was stationed.

The constant hub bub of machinery, techi's and scientists going to and fro. His simple desk and black office was kept in the lower reachs of the facility, near the excavation facility, which was quickly turning into the most popular area of the base. And his office was the junction that connected the excavation area to the rest of the facility. So this got him a lot of people coming in an out, mumbling apologies as he sent them venomous looks, mumbled threats, and thought pleasing thoughts of their dismemberment.

"Sorry." Said another scientist.

This time Mann ignored him, and simply returned to his work. It was a simple report on how progress was going in the UC room, a place he barely even visited. Lots of babbling kept going on about how the UC was important after the one in Hong Kong had went up in flames. JC Dentons demonized form kept on playing in everyones head. Now that was the kind of guy Thomas would've liked to take a shot at...Everyone was obsessing over him.

He sighed, and returned to his work. It was at this moment that he realized that he was schedualed to have lunch with the rest of the guys at the cafe. He rapidly closed out of what he was doing, and hurried out. From here it would be a simple stroll into the Planteology wing, and then into the cafe.

He went on through the bulkhead to his office, and up the stairs to the planteology wing. It was one of MJ-12s least paid divisions, but it thrived in the Ocean Lab simply because of its location: 2,000 feet below the surface. An on-site location gave un-told amounts of data to the eggheads.

Transgenics, however, were the focus down there. Greasels and Karkians were naturally pre-disposed to living in an underwater enviornment, so it made as a perfect testing ground. There were many marvels down there, but perhaps the biggest of all was the 1,000 feet wide pressure bubble the Ocean Lab sat in. It was a large scale plastic bubble that surrounded the ravine the Ocean Lab was tucked into, which made the pressure down there suitable for human life. All the native wild-life had quickly died, however, but management couldn't be bothered to care. There were specific areas for the survivors, however, in the lab itself, where the pressure was kept to optimal levels for them. They had simply replaced those that had died with regular low pressure living fish.

Mann stopped his mental tour through the facility, and went on through the wing, passing scientists crouched over plants and over such things that they concerned themselves with. He passed on through another bulkhead, and came into the supply hall. C5 explosives were kept under guard here by a swiveling drone gun. He went on into the cafeteria.

It was a dim lit, dirty little place that served bad food, but it was the only place where one was permitted to simply lay back. Hutchens and Joseph were already there. They smiled invitingly, and beckoned him over. He didn't even _consider_ heading onto the lunch line first.

"How the hell are you doing Mann?" Joseph said.

"Fine." Mann replied, rolling his eyes. He sat down, and made himself comfortable. No one else was in the room except for a few scientists.

"You gonna eat?" Hutchens asked.

"No." Mann said. "Anything happening today?"

"I'm up for a bit of pinball." Joseph said.

"Yeah, only because you win so damned much. "

Mann laid back, putting his feet up against the seat across from him. He always amused himself by listening to the two argue. In reality, he didn't exactly like either of them, but they were the closest things to sociable in the lab, so he put up with it. Eventually they decided on renting a movie from the local _Majestic Video_ store. He smirked at that thought. A damned silly name, but it didn't surprise him. Their selection was horrible, too.

"...nah, Ridley's just being...Ridley."

"But what?"

"He kept on minimizing his e-mail screen whenever I looked over. Porn, I expect, cause he can't get some in real life." Hutchens said, and Mann thought, Yeah, you neither.

"You sure?"

"I dunno."

"Well, security has rewards for people who turn un-loyal colleagues in..."

"You seem to forget that I am a merciful man, Joe. Besides, Ridleys my buddy."

They both laughed at this. Mann sighed, still wondering why he had ever put up with them in the first place.

* * *

Margaret Haggerty raised an eyebrow as another e-mail from Bob Page found its way to her desktop. Administration was difficult enough without the constant bickering from Page. Every minute he wanted to know the status on the UC. She was the interim authority in the Lab, but she still had to answer to Bob Page. She closed out of what she had been doing(browsing a slanderous web-site made by her son), and opened the e-mail. There was another from Roland, but Page and his obsessions came first.

_It has been two days since the last progress report, Haggerty. The UC must be running before the day is up. Failure to do so is not an option. Denton is still loose out there, and he could be coming for YOU next. _

Haggerty laughed silently at that last line. Oh, sure, JC Denton was DEFINITELY on his way to kill her next...

Rolling her eyes, she continued on down the message. It was only a list of quotas and figures that had to be fulfilled. She closed out of the message, and got on the PA.

"Doctor Syme to Administrators office." She spoke into the microphone. She repeated the message, and sat back in her swivel chair. Syme was a trouble maker for everyone. He had no friends, (although he thought he did), and always played jokes on everyone else. He didn't seem to fully grasp where he was working, and just how easily he could be removed. She had to have a chat with him. And this time, he'd be out of her hair for good. She still remembered the time when-

_No. We don't remember things like that, right, Margaret?_

It was a threat more than a thought. She shuddered at the memory nonetheless.

She waited patiently for several minutes before a knocking began on her bulkhead. During that time, she had shut down the internet in her sons house manually, and this earned her a large mental pat on the back.

"Enter." She said.

Doctor Syme slowly scuttled inside. He wore thick milk bottle glasses, and had a sickening tendency to lurch as he walked. His pointed nose gave him a un-ending ugliness.

"You wanted to see me, Administrator?" He said in what seemed to think was a seductive voice. Resisting the urge to vomit, she gestured for him to take a seat.

"We're both adults here, Syme. So we're going to act like adults." She felt like the principal at some high school, and grimaced.

"Oh, of course." Syme grinned.

"I think you know why you're here."

"No, I don't. Enlighten me."

"Eshers cat-"

Syme turned crimson, and frowned, "Oh, oh, yes that. N-no need to recount those events."

"Then I see that you understand why I've called you here."

"Erm. Yes."

Haggerty removed her glasses, for drama mostly, but also to rub her eyes. Syme shifted in his seat uncomfortably. She looked up at him, "Syme, you've already had your five warnings."

"Yes..."

"So. You know what that means."

"Yes..."

"Transfer into the UC chamber." She finished. It was a crewmembers worst nightmare. Radiation, loud noises, your ears poping...and rumors of transgenic outbreaks. Of course, there were escaped mutants down there, but they didn't need to know that.

"Haggerty, please, we don't have to do that-" Syme babbled. Haggerty cut him off with one single hand gesture, and leaned forward.

"Of course we do." She said. "You're the bases biggest troublemaker."

"Now that's a generalization-"

"It isn't." Haggerty responded cooly. She was through with him, "Your re-assignment card will be delivered to you in several days." She said.

Syme hung his head, and left the room, but not before sending her what he must had assumed to be an evil look. She rolled her eyes, and returned to her work.

* * *

Ridley was...calm now. Yes, that was the operative word there. Calm. All other emotions were trivial to him. He no longer bit on his nails. Slowly, he got up from the chair, turned, and left the room. There was nothing, for now, except what he was required to do. The nervousness was simply erradicated. It was beautifully simple. In a simple matter of hours, he was so much more...enlightened. And it was lovely.

The steel lined halls outside were...so much tinier. Far more compact. Another scientist, Alen, went past, and said hello. He returned the favor. That man was a simple being. It would be best to entertain him with such simple things. And besides, subtlety was imperative for what lay ahead.

He was heading for the armoury, where the C5 was kept. Then, he would place them, quietly, at several places around the base. There was more, but that objective came first.

His mind flashed. Gun. He would require a gun, as a precaution. The armoury would have one. He continued to walk, a bounce to his step as he anticipat-No. He no longer feld anticipation. Or did he? It was confusing. It mattered not, however, because it was irrelevent. He went on, satisfied with this conclusion.

After a brief half hours walk, he found himself in front of the armoury doors. A guard was posted there. Surely he would ask his business in being there. Then it would have to be taken care of.

The guard asked his business there, although it wasn't that formal. Ridley responded to this by wenching the pistol from the guards holster, and firing upon him. Once. Then twice. The man went down, blood covering the wall behind him. Ridley entered the armoury. From here, he selected a more adequete weapon, and collected the C5 needed for his objective.

Then, it was a simple matter of placing the bombs. He did this, and it took two hours time to place them. One in the habitation deck, one near the transgenic cage generator, one near the computer mainframe, one near the de-pressurization tube, and another on a sub schedualed to go out near the Pressure Bubbles wall. Those were only a few, and best of all, no body had asked him what he was doing.

He headed back to his quarters, to initiate the final steps.

* * *

_Several Hours Later..._

Yushio Igaki once again found herself wondering how the male race had ever evolved in the first place. She was staring into the rec room, a bemused smile crossing her face as the scientists and security officers crowded over a small TV screen, a video game dominating their attention at the moment. They hooted, they hollered; they were causing a general ruckus. She didn't know what game they were playing, and she didn't care. All she knew was that her quarters were _right_ next to them, and she couldn't sleep.

She worked in the Transgenics department, although it certainly wasn't willing. She hated what she had to do. Twisting animals, and making them monsterous creatures. It wasn't glamerous, certainly, but it wasn't like she had a choice...She missed working with Savage.

She opened the clear glass door to the room, which was dominated by the TV, pinball machine, and pool table, and wasn't surprised when no one turned to see who was coming inside. She scanned the faces inside briefly. Mann, Hutchens, and Joseph were standing to the side, looking annoyed. Mann wielded a DVD box in one hand. It read _"The Avengers"_, with generally avenger-ish box art on the cover. Or at least what she assumed to be avenger-ish. At any rate, it looked just as obnoxious as the video game, and she was beginning to doubt her ability to stop them.

Also there was Roland, Esher, and Jin, and several other officers she did not recognize. She was a bit surprised to see that Ridley wasn't there. He usually was, being the video game freak of the facility. Discounting these freaks, of course.

Then again, no one had seen him for hours, when she had inquired about him. His quarters were locked, and an x-ray scan revealed that he wasn't in there at all. Odd.

"Ahem." She attempted. No one, un-surprisingly, turned to see what she wanted. "AHEM!"

Mann turned, and smiled, "Hey there." He said.

She sighed, "Can you ask them to stop? I'm trying to get some sleep."

Mann frowned, "Uh, we're trying to watch this movie...Are you busy-"

"No." She said flatly.

"Damn." Mann cursed. She sighed again.

"Guys?" She asked. She poked one of them in the back. Incredibly, he didn't seem to know he had been touched. She sighed, and turned back to leave.

Explosions erupted from somewhere in the base, and that got all of their attention. Then, the lights blew, and the screaming began.

* * *

_Set: directory. Execing..._

_Directory: personal_

_Begin message;_

_You have been in the service of the False Ones. Those who call themselves  
"majestic," but have so little understanding of the true Doctrine of the  
Mighty. It is unfortunate that you will not be able to comprehend the Plan,  
the Way, the course that has been carefully laid out for us over a thousand  
years. I truly wish you could see the beauty of everything as it has been  
shown to me, and then you would understand why I must undertake such extreme  
measures.  
By the time you receive this message it will already be too late. The computer  
virus will have been released, and by now the entire network has been  
thoroughly infiltrated. I am sorry. The only comfort I can give is that your  
necessary sacrifice will be for a higher cause._

_(attach package: prgrm: Illumination is At Hand.)_

_Directory: End message. _

The Illuminated One smiled. Explosions ripped through the base, but he was deaf to them. They wouldn't effect the key areas, needed for him to escape, but they would be sufficent enough to disable the entire Unholy compound.

His fingers danced about the keyboard again, and the program needed to set the auto turrets upon the other crew members was implemented.

* * *

Haggerty hit the deck as soon as the first cascade of explosions hit. Her mind raced with every possible scenario. The reactor going critical, experiments setting off, the C5 cannisters some how exploding, JC Denton arriving and blowing stuff up-

There was a sickening lurch in the Labs tilt.

"_Warning: All Ocean Lab Personal. Violent seismic activity detected. Critical systems have been compromised."_

Haggerty regarded all of these events with a new found coolness, a calm that de-sensitized her. There was a problem. She would have to fix it.

She rushed over to her computer. First she would have to know just what the problem was. She started by checking all current IM conversations and out-going e-mails.

_JRaller to FFaherty_

_JRaller: WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON!_

_FFaherty: Dude, calm down, just be calmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmpopkgrrs_

_JRaller: Frank? _

_JRaller: FRANK!_

Haggerty went to another conversation.

_TMann: Shit, explosions are going off. Intruder alarms are going off. Everything is going off. To all who can see this message, COME to the rec room. We're safe here, for the moment. _

_ALeopard: o thank god, we got ded and wounded down hre, blod is everywhere but im still alive along with some other people WTF happened_

_TMann: Where are you?_

_ALeopard: um, near the planteology wing, i hear roaring...omigod. the transgenics._

_TMann: Forget it, just get everyone over here as soon as possible, I'm gonna try contacting Haggerty._

Haggerty instantly settled into the desk, ignoring the fog that started to come into the room. Cold started to spread across her body. She sealed the door.

_MHaggerty: I'm here, Tom. _

_TMann: What the fuck just happened?_

_MHaggerty: I don't know. An explosion of some sort. I think the C5 might have gone off._

She began to hear screaming in the distance.

_MHaggerty: I hear screaming. This is bad..._

_TMann: Yeah, no shit. _

All the while, different people were talking hysterically.

_MHaggerty: I've got to contact Page, hold on._

She exited the conversation, and went to "Out-going" mail. She typed up a quick message to Bob Page.

_Level Five emergency. Unknown number of casaulties. Explosive devices may have been used. Require immediate evacuation effort._

She sent it, then returned to the conversation.

_MHaggerty: Mann?_

_TMann: Here. People are starting to come in, and a we killed a greasel. _

_MHaggerty: Christ, they're loose?_

_TMann: Yeah. _

_MHaggerty: Damnit. Alright, I'm gonna head your way...Wish me luck. _

_TMann: Will do._

She took out a small defense pistol from her coat pocket, wiped her glasses clean, and ran out the door.

She never saw the message that dominated the screen two seconds later.

* * *

_One Hour Later..._

Mann leaned back against the recliner, his head hurting. The rec room was exponentially crowded now, and the tempurature was rising. All and all, it was a horrible situation. No one had ever experianced anything like this before. He was lucky he even had a seat...

It was...all...Ridleys fault. All of it. He didn't know why, but it was insane, whatever his reasons. The message shocked him, and freaked him out. He wanted to kill him, Mann realized. He had never actually wanted to kill a man before(Besides maybe JC Denton.) But it didn't matter at this point. It was quite likely that they were all going die.

_Don't start getting pessimistic. Save that for the scientists. _

The thing was, nothing was happening. Things had exploded, but nothing more had occured. It was likely that they were all going to starve to death. The realization of the disaster hadn't seemed to kick in with everybody yet. There was no game plan, no nothing. Some people even believed this to still be a drill. He vaguely wondered what was going on with everybody else in the lab...

Haggerty and Leopard hadn't arrived yet. As an officer, he assumed the worst. If it had been under different circumstances, he would have sent out teams to find them. Take control of the situation. But this was different. There was a foreboding. There was still the threat of transgenics. But he couldn't stay put. He had to take charge.

He got up, and waved his hand for a bit at everyone, attempting to get over their voices until they were all looking at him.

"Thank you." He said quietly, "I'll be blunt. I don't know what happened. It's likely that a lot of people are dead, but we can't stay here and all die, too. We gotta move out, get outta here, or at least get some place safer." He moved forward into a more suitable position, and spoke again, "We're in one of the more remote parts of the base. We gotta get some place nearer to the sumbarine bay. I'm not sure if there are any LRV's left, but...They've got to come for us sooner or later." That last part was lame, he reflected.

There was a murmer of agreement among the spectators. Not exactly what he had been expecting, but obviously mint nonetheless. He spent the next five minutes organizing them into one large group, tactically sound(or at least what he was hoping to be), and they were soon leaving the rec area.

It was good to be organized now. It was both tactically, and pschyologically sound,(although he wasn't exactly an expert in that.) He would have perferred an actual sense of security to a potentially false one, however. They began to walk.

The halls were generally quiet except for their footsteps, which gave the entire base an errie feel. He hated it. Eventually, however, there was some groaning in metal, tilt shifts, and...roars in the distance. Just how badly was the facility damaged? And where were Pages response team? Were ALL of the transgenics loose? They didn't see anything, however, and after an hours walk of winding corrirdors that seemed to naught have perviously existed, they were coming along the corridor to the LRV bay.

Too easy, Mann thought. The scientists began to run eagerly towards the bay.

And somehow it just got worse.

* * *

Watching the interlopers on the camera, Ridley considering letting them go. The base was critically damaged, true, but was there really need in all of them dying?

Of course there was. It wasn't the metal of the base after all, it was the _minds_ inside the base. He turned to the back-up C5 detonators, and selected the one needed for this occasion. He allowed himself to feel a sort of pride for his thoughtfullness. He pressed it down, and the route the interlopers needed was blocked off. Some of them even died in the process. Most excellent.

Then, he detonated the back passage. Then he observed their reactions for the time being. Fright, anguish, hatred. Nothing that was particularly important to what he was doing. Except for some rooms along the hall, they were effectively boxed in. And those rooms were filled to the very top with ravenous beasts. He opened them.

* * *

Things moved ultra fast. Far too fast for Yushio to keep track of. The corridor ahead exploded. She was instantly deafened to both sight and sound for just a split second, and then a large block of rubble stood in their path. Behind them, the same thing occured. Mann yelled something out to the panicking scientists. People were screaming.

She dully reflected, _And to think that sleep was my biggest problem two hours ago. _She had started the day in her quarters, fitful from sleep...and hadn't even considered the possibility of something as unreal as this happening.

She had skipped breakfest, she realized. As soon as this was realized, she was desperately hungry. She wandered over to the wall, and lay back against it. I am in shock, she thought, I must be a vegetable. Ridley was doing this to them. Instead of hatred, she just felt...annoyed.

"Everyone calm down!" Mann yelled. His voice carried out over the rest of them, but it hardly did anything to stop them from panicking.

The remaining doors in the hallways slid open with impotent slowness. The screaming reached a higher volume. And then, several dozen transgenics of varying species and sizes filled the hallways. Terror became the prevailing emotion in the room, to those who were able to feel it.

People began to die at a particularly fast rate.

* * *

Authors Note: You know, I actually intended to finish the Ocean Lab incident in one chapter, but I reached my usual quota for writing, AND this delay must have annoyed you. I'll do my best not to let it happen again.

In other news, the next chapter should finish up the Ocean Lab incident, and then we can get back to JC.


	39. And Those Forsaken

_**Deus Ex: The Conspiracy**_

Chapter Thirty Nine: And those Forsaken.

(Authors Note: YES, YES, I know. It's pretty safe to say now that I've got a pretty bad case of writers block. I'll do my best to overcome it, people.)

The body stared up at JC in what seemed to him as an accusing way. Behind him, Vixen got out of the small yellow submarine, took a look around the area, and went to inspect the supply crates that were nearby. The corpse wore the same garb as a regular MJ-12 trooper, but he had a name tag. A mistake, JC reflected, on MJ-12s part. Every soldier he had encountered working with them was just another nameless centurion doing their ineffable job for the conspirators. But no. This man had a name. It was Thomas Mann. There were other corpses in the room, among several bodies of transgenics, but none of them had names. JC guessed that this was the debrief team Markis had mentioned in his files.

The Ocean Lab was a graveyard, apparently, from Savages infolink transmission. Explosives had been used, transgenics released, and automated security turned on the people they were programmed to protect. When prompted, Savage could not come up with an explanation as to what had happened. It was obviously pre-meditated, not just an accident. He wasn't sure he wanted to know the details, as they had only come here to recover the schematics for the Universal Constructor here.

Near the corpse lay the body of a transgenic, but it had several dozen bullet holes in it, so it obviously hadn't killed him. The trooper had a bullet wound in his stomach, and the only possible culprit was the floating cadaver in the submarine pen. The scientist in there had a bullet in his head. A book lay next to the late Thomas. Skiming through it, he found what was apparently a diary of the events that had transpired.

The last page was the MJ-12 troops will, his last written words being "Screw you." Unconciously, JC began to start reading it when Vixen called over, who had apparently finished inspecting the crates that were near the metal stairs.

"C'mon, we're on a time table here!" She yelled.

"Right." JC said. He slipped the diary into one of his pockets, and followed his fellow agent up the stairs.

----------------------------------------

_2052, Memoires of Thomas E. Mann. _

_I've decided to keep this thing here so as to keep a reasonable balance of sanity while we try to get through this. I found it inside the room we ducked into after the Karkians and Greasels and whatever the hell else Ridley threw at us ripped apart half of the people I'd been traveling with..._

* * *

Mann, Hutchens, Roland, Yushio, and several other assorted personal dived one by one into the small dormitory as the hall behind them seemed to scream a bloody cacophony all at once. Once it had been sleek and gun metal...now it was slick with blood and body parts littered the floor. The very people he had assured would survive to get to the LRV bay.

"Close it, CLOSE IT!" Someone yelled as another scientist began to run for the door to get in. Mann shut it unconciously, posessed by fear for his own life. Not a second or two after he had secured the lock, the scientist that had been trying to get in banged against the door. He managed two charges before he screamed. It was a loud, long, agonizing howl that ended in a constipated gurgle, followed by the eager grunting of various monsters. There was about ten seconds more time of struggle, and then the area went quiet, save for the sounds of feasting.

No one said anything. No one even breathed. Yushio collapsed onto the bed, sobbing.

* * *

_Odd._ Ridley thought, stroking his chin, _some of the Interlopers have survived._ He scrolled through the camera settings until he arrived at the room the survivors were based in. His former self recognized Hutchens, and wanted to kill him, but he dispelled the thought. All of them were equally unworthy, despite their last crimes against him.

He counted twelve of them, all cooped up in that small room. Several of them were staring at the door, one was crying, and the others were just walking about aimlessly. Ridley applauded himself. That one act of using the transgenics on them had completely obliterated their spirit. He scrolled through the cameras again. Haggerty was busy trying to pick a lock on some door Ridley could not identify. He consulted the Laboratory map, but the explosions had greatly distorted whatever image the base used to hold, so he could not use it to ascertain her location. He would deal with her later.

He wished he had access to the UC cameras. They would enable him to monitor the progress of the survivors in that section of the base. He wasn't permitted to damage that area, however. The UC was important to his Master. He would have to make due, in any case.

A quick scan of the cameras yielded many cadavers, and small groups of survivors, typically constituting of one or two. He dealt with them in an efficent fashion, and allowed himself a smile when one particular survivor shot his companion in the head just before they were overrun with Karkian infants. Those pests taken care of, he turned back to the Interlopers. They were talking. He perked his ear to listen...but heard nothing. Curious.When he had looked upon them earlier, he could hear them. Frowning, he checked the status of the camera.

_Visual Status: Ok._

_Thermal Imaging: &zztdamaged_

_X-Ray Imaging: Ok_

_Audio Status: Unresponsive._

Ridley attempted to correct the problem, but instead of fixing it, he made things worse! The camera went blank. His heart racing, he attempted to fix it, but to no avail.

"Damnit." He muttered. He couldn't afford to lose track of them. He went to the hallway camera. The door was still locked, and the transgenics busying themselves with the freshly killed personal. Damnit.

He went back to the broken camera...only to find that visuals had been re-established. The room was empty. No!

Frantically, he pressed his face against the camera, searching every minute location they could have employed to escape. They were no where to be seen.

In a rage, Ridley began to scroll through the cameras again.

* * *

Once the camera had stopped looking about, the gathered survivors moved out from the crawl space kept underneath the cameras view.

"Hurry." Mann said. He got onto the nearby bureau Hutchens had spotted, and unhinged the rafter grating. "Get in!" He hissed.

The scientist began to jump into the rafters one by one, the sounds of impact echoing. Mann kept his eyes glued to the camera on the wall. All Ridley needed to do was take a glance into the room through that damned thing. Yushio was the last one through, and then Mann followed her in, closing the grate behind him. He didn't know where this would take the group, but it was probably better than that death-trap infested with Karkians...

Yushio coughed ahead of him. These things were dusty as hell.

"You alright?" He asked.

"I'm fine." she said in between coughs.

Mann smirked, "Doesn't sound like it."

She sent him a look, and they continued their crawl through the rafters. In their travel, they found no transgenics, thankfully, but a ton of blocked passages, mostly likely caused by the explosions Ridley caused. No flooding, though, thankfully.

"You know, I've had a question." Hutchens said as he shimmied up to get behind Mann.

"Yeah?"

"Where do you want to go?"

"The LRV bay." Mann sighed.

"What if that's cut off?" Hutchens pressed.

"Uh...-" Mann stopped himself. He hadn't thought of that. Damnit. "The UC chamber." He knew for a fact that the UC lab had its own grid of security.

"You sure?"

"Positive."

They continued on.

* * *

JC frowned as he sifted through the computer files on the desk. The dead body of a woman looked back up at him from the floor, a spattering of bullet holes in her chest. Her name tag read "Margaret Haggerty, Administrator." He wondered if this was her computer.

"Any luck?" Vixen yelled from the other room, across the hall. She was currently dealing with a bunch of penned in Karkians. Apparently someone had constructed a path of filing cabinets to keep them inside.

"I may have found the administrators desk, hold on!" He yelled back to her. He attached the Ice Breaker he had gotten off of Shannon, and waited patiently for it to hack the computer. A short fanfare played, probably one of MJ-12s cheery theme songs, and a sing song voice played out, _"Welcome to Lab O-S 54, or simply known as The Ocean Lab! We at the-"_

JC cut out the spiffy introduction, and went to "Security" folder. There was a list of files. He clicked on the one called "lock-down procedures." A screen came up, with another fanfare, and asked him if he wanted to cancel the current lockdown. He choosed "Sectional Lock-Down Parameters." A blue-print of the entire facility came up on the screen. Most sections were high-lighted in red, called "Unstable Sectors, Situation Unknown."

A death scream erupted from one of the karkians V was taking care of. "Sorry!" She yelled.

JC panned out the map of the facility on the screen, pinpointing their location and where they had to go. There was only one available path to the UC, and that involved going through the Transgenic facility, which was now labeled as an "Extreme Bio-Hazard Zone." JC suddenly had a headache...

----------------------------------------

The karkian was lunging for the door even before Haggerty had fully opened it. She slammed the thing shut as soon as its beady little eyes stared into her own. She sighed. This wasn't going well at all. Most of the staff had to be dead, at the rate of which she was finding dead bodies. The whole entire thing was unsalvageable. Totally, completely unsalvageable. She went to the schedualed meeting place where Mann said he would be only to find it empty. After, she had gone back to her office, only to find it infested with Karkians.

She slumped back against the wall nearby. She felt utterly exhausted from the dodging, running...the death. It was beginning to be too much for her.

It didn't matter. What mattered was that she had to get out. But first she had to contact Bob Page, for that. And the room in front of her, which was her office, was the only secure frequency on the base. And it happened to be, at the moment, infested with Karkians. She would have to fix this problem then, wouldn't she? She began to pace back and forth, deep in thought. She could find a gun and kill them, she supposed. But that was the most obvious solution, and thus, the most dangerous and foolhardy. She wasn't an expert on transgenics, but she knew enough to know that they were ravenous almost _all_ the time. Plus, Karkians were built like tanks, to boot. She had to find some other way of doing this...

After a moments thought, she remembered the security panel nearby, in the Security Chief's office. It had a direct link-up to the turret in her office! Ha! With a little thought, any situation could have a solution, she thought triumphantly. She crossed the hallway, and opened the door. An adult Karkian tilted its head lazily towards her, stared for a moment, then went back to its feasting on the corpse inside the room. Haggerty closed the door, her right eye twitching. She returned to pacing in the hallway, ignoring the dull sounds of the Karkian slamming against the security office door.

That plan was out of the picture now. What else...

She could coax the karkians into going into another room...She looked across from her offices door, to see another one. She already knew it existed, she just wanted the comfort in knowing its exact location. Grinning, she went inside this office, thankfully mutant free, and collected a bunch of filing cabinets. She dragged them out to the hallway, and constructed a makeshift fence around the two doors. After testing it for how well it would keep the little monsters from getting to her, she found the answer to be not at all. She was getting desperate, so she ignored this latest detail.

Then, after a quick sweep around the surrounding offices, she found two cadavers, and dragged them into the room. The bait was set. She opened the door to her office, and hid behind it. As predicted, the karkians leapt out one by one, and looked around at their surroundings. One of their noses bunted against a cabinet, causing it fall over. Haggerty held her breath. Then, the lead karkian spotted the corpses in the other room, and they all began to roar and dashed toward them. As soon as the last one had carrened through, she slammed the door. Problem solved!

She stepped back into her office, and looked around for any stragglers. There appeared to be none. She turned around to go to the computer, and whirled around as an infant karkian hurled itself at her. She screamed, and fell back against the computer as it clamped to her chest. She held its neck just a mere inches away from her throat. It roared in rage, and began to put all of its strength into tearing her neck out. She struggled with it, rolling around, smacking it into the desk, but to no avail. It kept its grip. She got up, and began to smack the thing into the wall. It screeched in pain suddenly, and released its hold. Haggerty recoiled, feeling at her waist, where it had been holding onto her. It had dug its damned nails deep into her.

She had little time to think over this before it lunged at her again. She dodged it nimbly, and began to look around for some sort of implement to use on the beast. She found a knife on the desk, bloody. She didn't know how it had gotten there, because it sure as hell wasn't hers, but she didn't care. She held it out clumsily. The karkian, ignoring the knife, jumped at her again. She closed her eyes involuntarily, and heard a terrible sound of rending flesh. Its manuevar had burried half of its body into the knife. Feeling the weight of the dead mutant, she tossed the thing aside by the handle of the knife.

_"Mail Recieved."_ said the voice of her computer. She collapsed into the chair, and opened the new file. A voice came out.

_"Haggerty? This is Page, where are you?"_

It ended. She quickly established an audio link-up.

"Page? Page, this is Haggerty, respond."

There was a brief silence. Then, _"Report."_

Goddamnit, she wasn't in the mood for this. She had nearly died just moments ago. "Uh, not so good. Half of the facilities been destroyed-"

_"What about the UC, you nitwit!"_

She clenched her fist, and slowly released when her nails began to dig into the skin, "Let me check." She brought up a digital map of the facility. Most of it showed the words "Locked Down" or "Critically Damaged." She pressed the button for the Sub-Levels. All sectors were green. "UC is still operational, Page."

_"Damnit...Listen, Haggerty. I need you to destroy the UC, and all files pertaining to it."_

No...that wasn't how it was supposed to go! She wanted to get _out_ of there.

"Uh..."

_"Margaret, I'm counting on you. It goes without saying that I'll be with-holding your evac until you've done as I've asked." _

"But why-"

Pages connection cut off. Haggerty let out a small sob, and banged hard on the desk. Five seconds later, the gun turret in her room swiveled around to face her, and unloaded twenty bullets into her chest.

* * *

_One Day Later..._

Mann slowly peeked out from behind the corner, Hutchens and Yushio tailing him. All of them showed signs of...exquisite fatigue. Their numbers had slowly fallen as they had traveled, until it was only those three. The original plan to go to the UC chamber was simply out of the question, now. Most likely because going there had caused their deaths. It was a sick irony, how they had all died. They were going down into the excavation chamber, past Manns office, when hordes of spider bots rushed them. A datacube further back, that they had missed, explained to any passerbys to be careful, as the survivors in the UC chamber had set them to attack anything that came down. Killed by their own people.

"It looks clear." Mann said. They walked out, and began to go down the hallway. All of them were armed now, albeit lightly. Yushio had a pistol, Hutchens a shotgun, and Mann an assault rifle. Right now, Mann wanted an assault shotty, a GEP gun, and the ammo to go with both. The armoury had been ransacked, of course.

They came up to a hallway filled with...filing cabinets. Odd, but normal, Mann supposed, when coupled with a transgenic outbreak. There were doors on all sides of the room.

"Stay together, don't look inside." Mann said, and they started off.

"How close is the secondary LRV bay entrance?" Yushio asked.

Mann briefly consulted the map he had found off of a dead scientist. There were tons of red marks that indicated compromised sectors. "Not far."

They went on, going through the hallway without incident. It was only a few more halls till the LRV bay. He just hoped to god the path wasn't blocked.

They passed another corner, and Hutchens yelled for them to get down. Even without seeing what was wrong, Mann complied without question. He took cover around the corner, Yushio following suit. Hutchens fired his shotgun at the unseen foe.

"What is it!" Mann yelled.

Hutchens moved back into cover, reloading his shotgun. He didn't see Ridley rush up to meet them. "It's goddamn Rid-"

Blood sprayed from Hutchens skull. He fell to the ground with a hollow slap. Ridley stepped forward to take his place, wielding a magnum. He looked down at the body, and kicked it out of his way. He pointed the gun at Mann before he had a chance to react.

"It'd be best if you just stopped trying." He said.

Mann said nothing. Indeed, it had only been a matter of time.

"Why did you do this, Ridley?" Yushio asked. Apparently she was brave enough to ask. Ridley continued to look at Mann.

"Because I had to." He smiled, "Honest."

"Why did you have to?"

He shrugged, "I'm not in a position to know that. Right now, I'm only worrying about my own escape."

Yushio nodded. Then, she pulled out her gun. Ridley turned to her lazily, and shot her in the chest. Mann tackled the scientist to the floor, and he let out a surprised yell. Mann looked around briefly for his assault rifle. It was gone. He didn't know why, but he didn't care at that point. He scooped up Yushios pistol, and looked at it. It was empty, but he had an extra magazine in his pocket. He got up, and punched Ridley for good measure. He turned back to Yushio. She was already dead. A few hours ago, he might have cared. He ran for it.

* * *

A moment later, Ridley got back up, cursing. To his amazment, he was biting his fingernails again. He stopped abruptly, and looked around. His gun was underneath his stomach. He picked it up, and examined the two infidels bodies. Both were definitely dead. And Mann had escaped. Damnit. He would no doubt attempt to hamper his escape route. Ridley ran down the hall, eager to catch up with him.

* * *

In his rush to get away from Ridley, Mann had made a dumb mistake. He hadn't looked where he was going. He had gone rapidly down the steps, and walked right into a gun turrets line of fire. It plugged had plugged him in the kidney. He barely registered the pain in his mad dash into the LRV bay. He heard footsteps right behind him, hot on his heels.

Mann looked impassively into the LRV bay. Like had had expected, there were no mini subs at all. He leaned against the wall as he slowly began to bleed. Automatically, he loaded his pistol. Ten seconds later, Ridley was behind him, the gun pointed at his head. He waited for the bullet to enter his brain.

...And none did.

"Before I kill you, I must know something."

"Ask." Mann gasped. He coughed up blood.

"Why did you join Majestic Twelve? You knew of their intentions, did you not?"

"You don't join these sorta things, Ridley. You know that. They come to you. First, I was offered a position as Lab security. Seven months later, I still didn't know who I was working for. Then, they lay it on you in a flash. You can't say no."

Ridley processed this, "Then you die for a greater good, friend."

Mann turned around and shoved him. Ridley barely recoiled, but it gave Mann enough lee-way to point his own gun. He stared at it, feigning shock.

"Oh, no." Mann lied, "Empty!"

Of course, his gun had a full clip in the barrel._ Ridleys_ gun on the other hand, was empty, the firing mechanism extended. And the bastard knew shit about guns.

Ridley fired his gun. It clicked.

Mann fired his gun. A gout of blood splattered Manns face as Ridley fell back into the water. He leaned over, and shot the floating body six more times.

Some time later, sitting out by near the window...Mann saw lights in the distance...

Authors Note: A lame chapter, I know. But I gotta release something --.


	40. The Ocean Lab

_**Deus Ex: The Conspiracy**_

Chapter Forty: The Ocean Lab

(Authors Note: This'll probably be a short one, simply because I hate the Ocean Lab like rats...)

The sliding door began to open, agonizingly slow. Every inch seemed to be an effort for the grealty molested mechanisms inside of it. JC wasn't expecting much, but he would be damn pleased if it actually worked. As it opened, the small angular head of a greasel poked its way out. It looked about, its beady little eyes twinkling. Perhaps it had been cooped up in there since the initial outbreak, baying uselessly at the door. For days, perhaps.

JC delivered a swift kick to its head, an audiable snap erupting from the greasels head. It dropped to the floor, in the space between the two entry-ways of the door. Almost instantly roaring echoed out from behind the door, and the transgenic carcass was promptly dragged out from where JC could see it. The sound of rending flesh followed.

"Get back." Vixen said grimly. JC complied, thoughtlessly. It was weird, how they were acting like partners now, when only days ago they had been at each others throats. Strange how politics could swiftly change who was friend and foe. And like politics, it wasn't at all certain if said friend was actually as friendly as he said he was...

Vixen tossed a LAM through the still struggling door. The explosive had been pilfered from one of the armouries they had come across inside the Ocean Lab. She turned, and went to the side of the door, covering her ears. Light streamed through the small space the door had opened in an instant, followed by a loud bang. Ironically, the door screeched, and flew open in an instant. JC and Vixen backed away from the door, wielding machine guns, and sprayed the room with bullets. JC caught a glimpse of a Karkian running towards the door, but it quickly disappeared in the smoke. A second later, the Karkian shrieked and fell to the floor, riddled with bullets. JC emptied his magazine, and reloaded while Vixen went on shooting. When they had both reloaded, the smoke had cleared.

"Go." JC said. V darted forward, into the room, sweeping back and forth.

"It's clean." She said. JC ran in, and looked around the room. It looked like a room for studying transgenics. Pits that served as cages lined the sides of the room. Several contained human skeletons. The rest of the room was a mess, having been totaled by the LAM. Greasel spit on the walls competed with the more recent scorch marks for wall space. According to JC's map, they were right next to the excavation site.

"Shouldn't be too far, now." JC said, pointing to the door. V simply nodded, and went to the door, sweeping again. She certainly wasn't as lively as she was outside of combat...Yet when she had fought with JC, they had been spewing taunts at each other back and forth. Odd. He sighed, and went along with her.

* * *

The tram rails sparked menacingly as JC held his foot above them. Very carefully, he drew it back onto the excavated rock. The tram had most likely been used to cart rock back to the incinerator that lay at the other end of the cavernous chamber. Cat-walks filled the area, all that the builders got to create before the outbreak had occured. A large CB-56 Construction bot resided near the end of the corridor, but it was blocked off by both a deep chasm in the middle of the natural part of the cavern(which had been subject to a lot of construction), and the electrified rail-way that seperated him from the other side of the cat-walk. He wanted to get to the crew module, and that was at the _other_ end of this room.

V was currently invesitigating a room they had found while walking up. So naturally, he was faced with the problem of getting across the expansive tram line, which was almost certainly electrified.

_"Look to the left."_ Said Helios.

Ignoring this familiar occurence, JC obediently looked his immediate left in time to see a Greasel waddling about at the other side of the tram line. He darted to the side as the Greasel sent a wad of poisonous spit at him. It impacted the gun-metal floor harmlessly--to him at least, the floor became quite damaged--. The Greasel cocked its head curiously. JC reached for his magnum, but at that moment the Greasel chose to step out onto the tracks.

Electricity visibly surged through its scally green body. The Greasel didn't even screech in pain. It simply fell forward, dead, continuing to surge with electricity.

"Problem." JC said. Vixen appeared behind him, looking at the sparking rails. She anaylzed the problem for a moment, then looked around, "There's probably a switch around here, somewhere."

"That's what I think." JC agreed. They looked at one another for a moment, expecting the other to suggest something. Upon looking up, JC spotted an alcove on the wall above them. "Let's try to get up there, it might be a tram control room." He gestured up to the alcove. Vixen looked up.

"You go. I'll look around down here." With that, she ran down the nearby stairs that led down to the excavation area. JC shrugged, and began to walk the cat-walk, looking for a set of stairs that would lead up there. He made a full check of the wall, but found nothing other than the odd computer panel set into the rock. Eventually, he looked back, and calculated the chances he'd have of scaling the rails with his speed enhancement on. Too much of a gamble. He sighed, and decided to wait for Vixen to come back.

Instead, when he neared the stairs, a tram began to come down the track. It was an empty slab of metal, set onto magnetic rails, typically used for carting large broken down pieces of rock around the excavation site. Vixen appeared on the stairs, and ran up, smiling.

"Found the controls at the bottom, jump." She said, then leapt onto the tram. JC followed suit, and jumped onto the other side just as Vixen did. She looked pleased with herself.

"Ok, what now?" She asked.

JC pointed to the end of the corridor, "The crew modules just beyond, from there, we'll get into the UC chamber."

"Right, let's go."

* * *

Walton stepped out of the mini-sub...and nearly stepped into the carcass of a Greasel. In fact, he DID step into it. Its decompossing skin crumpled easily from his touch. The other four spec. ops got out with him, examining the area. They were all wearing diving suits, a trivality Walton couldn't be bothered with. He didn't give a damn about pressure or keeping optimal blood levels. Besides, his combat suit more than provided for safety. He took a short look around the area.

The LRV bay was mostly untouched, besides the blood that decoratted the walls, the corpses near the stairs, and other cadavers. He expected that the rest of the base was much of the same. It hardly mattered, anyway. The remainder of the plan was to be carried out by Page, at Area 51. And with Helios around...

None of these facilities would matter anymore.

His hand trailed idily to the place where JC had shot him. The regeneration aug had fixed it up nicely, but the defeat left him aggravated. And the bastard was inside this very place, where his grave would(hopefully)be. He looked over to his spec-ops.

"How's the C5?"

The soldier went into his rucksack, "All perfect condition. Ridley was an amatuer, no doubt. These'll destroy the entire facility."

Walton turned back, heading up the stairs, "Perfect. Follow me."

* * *

"Robert..."

Page turned slowly back to face his wife, "Yes?"

May positively glowered at him. Again, she dramatically looked outside, at the ultra modern base around them. They were inside a jeep, taking them closer to a large hangar. Lights flashed by them as it went, the buildings of Area 51 sillhouetted against the sun. MJ-12 soldiers walked around without care of these things. "I know I would have to be prepared to make some sacrifices in this relationship..."

Page rolled his eyes, getting ready to plunge into another explanation.

"...but I didn't know you were the secret ruler of the world, you see."

"I'm not the ruler of the World, May, NOBODY is the ruler of the world." He said in what he hoped to be a pleasent voice.

"Right. Terrific Fourteen, or whatever, is."

"Majestic Twelve, dear." Page corrected gently. He found himself oddly wishing he could bite her head off. "And I am simply part of its council." He smiled, "We're like a democracy, you know!"

"Right. A democracy that controls the world."

"We don't control, per se, we just...suggest things to people."An ironic, however false, likeness to their predecesors...

"Then what's with all the military?" She gestured outside the jeep. She seemed to be barely containing her questions. She didn't seem to be angry, however...Just a surprised curiousity. Page looked down to the baby, sleeping in his lap. He snuggled her closer to him.

"Just for protection, May."

He could barely contain his own enthusiam, however. After years of production, programing, and secrecy, Helios was finally complete. It would change everything. Not only would the Net become more versatile, but it could monitor _everything._ Nothing was impossible with Helios fit snugly on his belt. And not only that...it wasn't JUST an artificial intelligence. It was praticaclly a God. Or at least, soon would be...

The greatest achievement, however, was the fact itself that HE had built it. It had been Everetts only objective. To create an AI program capable of censoring everything he deemed fit. And Page had created it. The irony was amazing.

May was silent, and the car sped on into the night.

* * *

The solid blue laser traps winked mockingly as JC stared at them, and the hall they occupied. They were in the way, which happened to be the way JC and V needed to go to access the UC chamber. They had come through the crew module, and down an elevator guarded by a gas trap, just to find an inaccesible hall. Vixen was currently snooping around for a way through them.

"So what do you think happens if we go through em'?" Vixen asked from another hall.

"Nothing good, I'd expect." JC said.

"I bet it's nothing horrible. Like, spider-bots, or something."

"And I'm betting it'll cut us right in half." JC argued.

It seemed a humorous conversation(to JC at least)to be having when the fate of the world kept on reminding you that it was resting on your shoulders. JC kept waiting for Helios to point out some other way in. Probably for it's new bastard masters. He had no doubt that Page would ultimately benefit from this, one way or another.

And then there was Helios. The enigmatic AI had, like one of its predecesors, taken a liking to keeping JC alive. Whether for JC's own benefit, or its own. This, quite expectedly(although it's sudden creation from two more-or-less insane AI's was quite definitely unexpected), brought forth a few questions as to where its loyalties truly lay. If it was loyal to MJ-12, then why did it want to help him? Because it was truly loyal to him? Had its own agenda? Or was it just to help Page? Like most things in JC's life, there were too many questions, and not enough answers.

As if on cue, Helios came in over his info-link.

"Yes, you will find a way to defeat the security network. It is confused, yes...Expecting the breach that never comes."

"But how?" JC asked.

"It is not my place to tell." Great. More sage mysteriousness crap.

Then, an altogether more upbeat message, "Do you see the pieces coming together, JC?" It was Page, "UC, AI, and soon Helios will interface directly with MY mind. I will be able to see anything, build anything--DO ANYTHING!" JC could almost imagine him froathing..., "Just a little further, Denton."

Amusements aside, what the hell was Page even planning? Was he trying to become a god? How would that even be possible? And, if so, why would he even tell JC of his intentions, no matter how vague. Did he truly believe that with Helios the resistance stood no chance of victory over MJ-12? His brain was on overload...

JC fidgeted in a bored fashion. Those blue wire-traps were getting too annoying. And they themselves held too many questions. He contemplated taking out a quarter, and using it to throw through the wires to see what would happen...but there was always the possibility that it could fill the room with toxic fumes. He took out the quarter, examining it. It was a small silverish coin, with an eagle on one side, representing freedom and justice(above were the words "Epluribus Unum"), and George Washingtons face on the other. The enscription date was 2008.

Paper money and coin transactions had been rendered obsolete in 2025, thanks to the entry of digital currency. Still, some countries retained the practice of paper money transactions. American half-dollars were especially rare, and thus were a collecters item. JC had even heard rumors of even more rare items, like quarters with their state marked on one side, instead of the eagle. Those were especially worth much. To him, quarters were a simple way of distracting adversaries. Toss one inside a room with good metal surfaces, and it would cause an audiable distraction. He wondered if his aim was good enough to toss it through a laser...

"Vixen?"

Silence. JC frowned. Surely she'd still be within hearing range...

"Hey, Vixen?" He said. He smirked inwardly at it. They weren't even employed to their respective agencies anymore, and still everyone refered to them by codename. Even in his own thoughts, JC refered to himself that way.

Still there was no response. He walked back out into the corridor, and looked into the crawlspace Vixen had been investigating. There was an open grate there. Why wouldn't she tell him about that...? He crawled in a short way before coming to an empty space with a ladder extending upward. It led into a network of rafters.

"Vixen!" JC yelled into them, his voice echoing through-out it.

"Hey!" Came a returning voice. JC breathed a sigh of relief. "Where are you?" He yelled.

"Further down, it's not a bad crawl. Just go straight."

JC crawled straight through the rafters, slightly unnerved to see several Greasel bodies laying around. There were no visible wounds on them, but their bodies were gaunt, nearly to their bone. They had died of starvation. He continued on, until he came to a larger area, with a giant fan stuck to the bottom. Through the slowly turning blades, he could see a large military grade Spider-Bot crawl around down below. Vixen was just ahead. He crawled up to her, and took a seat nearby.

She immediately gestured below them, through another spinning fan.

"We'll be able to bypass all the security by-" She began.

"Why didn't you tell me about this?" JC cut her off.

She shrugged, "Wanted to scout out."

JC didn't believe her, but he couldn't be bothered to care...yet. "Fine, go on."

Her eyes narrowed ever so slightly, but she went on, "We'll be able to bypass all of that nasty security by going through this fan. The schematics I downloaded from the admins office shows that we're near the UC."

JC looked down at the fan, and took out the DTS hilt. He pointed the hilt at the center of the fan, and ignited the sword. The fan broke apart, half of it dissolved by the nanites. It looked like a nasty drop down.

"Grab on." JC said, activating his speed enhancement. Vixen obediently wrapped her arms around him, and they jumped through. There was a sensation of vertigo, then he hit the bottom, Vixen releasing herself instantly. JC got up, and looked around the room. It was large and industrial, filled with ramps and machinery. Several scientist corpses littered the area, and a disturbing splotch of blood on the wall, but other than that it look safe. A large elevator platform lay to the north. Vixen pointed to it, "That's our way up, come on."

They jogged over to the elevator platform, where JC examined the controls. The call button was out of its socket. JC pressed it against the indentation, and sighed in relief when it clicked. The elevator descended from above.

"Aside from a couple of monsters, this was too easy." Vixen said, looking up at the elevator. It came to a stop at the bottom.

"You're gonna screw us if you keep talking like that." JC warned, stepping onto the platform, and pressing the "up" button.

It failed to respond.

* * *

JC pulled himself up to the top, and turned down to help Vixen up from the large black pipe she was standing on. Both of them were coated in sweat from trying to find alternative ways up, and JC's legs were slightly singed from accidentally stepping in electrified water. Vixen pulled herself up, and lay down on the metal floor, catching her breath. JC turned, and pressed the up button. Below, the elevator churned, and began to ascend. JC clenched his fist, and walked out into the rest of the room. It looked like it was chiefly used for computer work, and monitoring. Several bloody corpses were still drapped in their chairs, heads on the keyboards.

What JC also noticed was that all of the bodies had been shot in the head, multiple times. JC bent to examine the wounds on one of the cadavers when a bullet whizzed by his head. He instantly ducked down, behind the desk. Bullets continued to smash into the metal.

"JC!"

"Gun turret!" JC yelled, "Right side!"

Vixen appeared at the doorway, and tossed an EMP grenade to the right side of the room. When it detonated, the bullets continued, but in varying, erratic directions, making it all the more dangerous. JC looked around the room, hoping to find a way out of this. A plastic push-cart was nearby. A bullet pinged into it, and it fell over, convienantly within JC's reach. He grabbed it, and began to advance across the room, hidden behind the cart. He was about ten feet from the turret when the effects of the EMP wore off. Bullets began to smack into the plastic, working against JC's momentum.

"Another grenade?" Vixen asked from behind the corner.

"No, don't waste it!"

JC pushed the cart away, and leapt next to the turret. It turned to meet him, but was cut short by him activating his muscle aug, and kicking the turret off its base. Bullets continued to push out from its internal mechanisms, spilling out onto the floor.

"It's out." JC said.

Vixen appeared from the corner, "You're amazing." She said, looking at the sputtering remains of the turret.

JC shrugged, and turned to the other side of the room. Twenty feet away was the UC room...which was seperated by a large gap leading down back into the rest of the UC facility. Another bullshit obstacle.

"I guess a bridge would normally extend it, "Vixen said, looking over his shoulder. "Just gotta find a keypad." JC guaged the range. It wouldn't be a long-shot for his speed enhancement...

"I'm gonna jump across, maybe there's a button on the other side."

She nodded, "I'll look for a keypad, then."

She stood back, and JC hunched his legs. Then, he leapt across the expanse, his trench coat billowing behind him. He landed safely on the other side, with a forward roll. Surely enough, there was a button on the wall. He pressed it, and a bridge shot out to connect the two rooms. Vixen walked forward, smiling a bit.

Savage broke in over the info-link, his transmission staticy and frayed, "Good work, you two. The schematic is on the main computer in this room."

JC turned to Vixen, "Savage sends his regards." She nodded her acknowledgement, clearly more interested in investigating the room.

"Over here." JC gestered to the nearby computer terminal. They walked over, and JC attached Shannon's ingenious little hacking device to the side. The login screen came up briefly, the ice breaker at work. Eventually it bypassed the login screen, and a desktop showed up. It showed a picture of a large cat, sitting lazily on a couch. Probably belonging to one of the researchers, JC sadly realized. Who the hell could have done this, anyway? He clicked on the "Special Options" folder, and a list of files appeared. He clicked on "UC Specs.", and forwarded it to GSavage. reply was instantaneous, "Great! That's exactly what we need. Jock's taking me to the top of the submarine base, which is now under NSF control. Be careful on your way out."

JC clicked another folder marked "Security." From here, he disabled the UC facilitys internal security net-work."Mission complete," JC said, "Let's get the hell outta here."

"Amen." Vixen said.

They made their way back down the elevator, which mercifully allowed them to come down. They went past a disabled Spider-Bot, and found a holo-deck communicator in a hall near the enterance. On cue, Page came in over the info-link.

"Step over, I have something to say."

JC turned to Vixen, "Page wants to have a chat. Stay out of sight."

"Why?" Vixen asked.

"Maybe he'll think you're dead." Although that wasn't likely.

V obediently went over to the side, and JC stabbed the button marked "Accept Call."

Page's light rendered form instantly appeared over the holo-deck, his voice crisp when not hindered by poor communications.

"In case you were wondering," he said right away, "Helios intercepted your transmission; we accessed the schematics, and our UC's will be operational shortly."

UC_'s_? They had more than one...

"Meanwhile, we'll be manufacturing a cure." JC said. Page's little death virus would be useless if there was a publicly announced cure in circulation.

Page stared at him as if he had three heads, "A cure? A CURE! You are more naive then I expected, JC. Do you have any idea how easy it would be for me to make a NEW virus? All I have to do is find a very large prime number and multiply." He emphasized on every word, seeking to put down JC's optimism.

But he wasn't impaired, "And all we have to do is crack the code."

Page scoffed, "Mathematically unlikely." He looked away to something JC couldn't see. "As are your chances of leaving the Ocean Lab, by the way."

JC tilted his head confidently, "You're next Page. Your greatest strength was secrecy, but now we know everything. Including your present location. We have Everett to thank for that."

Page smirked. "Always the optimist." This was obviously a short-sighted generalization on Page's part...,"You would need an ARMY to attack me at Area 51, and pretty soon--if the missile is accurate--your 'X-51' will be a thin, grey _smudge_, where Vandenberg used to be."

He smiled his condescending smile again, and disappeared. The word "missile" kept on playing in JC's head. That couldn't be good.

"Missile?" Vixen asked, coming over. Page hadn't commented on her, strangely enough.

"I think Page has his bases better covered than I had thought." JC said grimly.

"We gotta move."

They left the room, and went down the darkened hallway they had used to get in.

Half-way through, the entire room shook once. It was a very big, very un-settling shake. It also sent both of them to the floor.

"Shit." JC said.

* * *

"C5's detonated, sir." The commando reported. "Structural decay evident, estimated time to collapse: twenty minutes."

Walton nodded once, staring at a schematic of the facility. He had turned the LRV bay into a makeshift command center, complete with a contstantly updating computer screen showing the outside of the facility, and another with the operating security cameras. Two gun turrets guarded the entrance, which had already killed two wandering transgenics. The immediate damage of the C5's was evident according to the outside cameras.

The commando hesitated, "Sir, the chances of them surviving the initial hazards created by the bombs are incredibly low. We'd best depart."

Walton didn't believe that. Not for a moment. The turncoat bitch might die, but there was no chance in hell JC would. He turned to the turrets, "Keep the turrets operating, and let's go."

"Those are expensive-" A nearby commando whined.

Walton turned swiftly, and punched the commando into the water. The rest of them kept silent. They also didn't make a move to help the commando out of the blood filled water.

"We're going to leave the labs. But I want to stay outside until the twenty minute mark is up." Walton said.

"Yes, sir." They all shouted, sans the one in the water. Walton turned to the commando from before.

"How many torpedos do we have?"

"Four, sir."

It wasn't enough, but one had to make due.

"Alright," he said, "Everybody onboard."

* * *

JC experianced a moment of darkness as smoke filled the corridor. The only thing he could effectively think about was the elevator ahead of them. If it was out they were screwed.

"Attention, all Lab O-S 54 Personal: Extensive structural damage detected. Chances of complete structural collapse: Very likely. Proceed in an orderly fashion to the main LRV docking bay for immediate evacuation."

"Fuck, fuck, fuck!" JC blurted. This screwed _everything_ up.

He heard a cough nearby, "Stop talking like a sailor and let's go!" Vixen yelled.

They ran through the corridor, holding their breath. Vixen clambered onto the elevator first, followed by JC. She stabbed the "up" key, and the elevator rumbled in protest. JC slammed it, and it began to shoot upwards. He allowed himself a satisfied smile. Twenty seconds and another automated warning later, they reached the top, and they both ran out into the crew module.

Water was gushing out of a large gash in the ceiling in front of them, filling the corridor. They plunged into it, and briefly struggled with the forces attempting to push them up through the opening. They got through to the other side, and went up the ladder into the next level. The water was even more ferocious up here, but the exit was mercifully close. They came out into the excavation cavern, where water was rushing its way toward them from a hole in the wall.

"If it touches the electrified rails, we're dead." JC said grimly.

"GO THEN!" V practically screamed. They waited patiently for a cart to come their way, and they hopped over the rails again. The water was twenty feet away when they got off. They continued to high-tail it through the door when the water reached the rails. Vixen slammed the door shut behind her.

They continued their sprint through water logged corridors, passing through the transgenic lab, and the office suite as the entire complex collapsed around them. Eventually they entered a hallway JC was familar with.

"The LRV bay should be close, let's keep going."

They went on through the door, and into an identical corridor, with a sign hung over the door at the other end marked "LRV BAY."It was like a god-sent.

When they went through the door, two gun turrets greeted them. These implements of death were clearly not sent by God.

"Get back!" JC barked. They retreated back through the door as the turrets opened fire.

"Those weren't here when we came!" JC yelled, stating the obvious.

He felt Vixen shrug, and she turned the corridor again, EMP grenade in hand. She tossed it inside, and the turrets were sent offline. "No big problem." V said.

They rushed into the room, where someone had apparently set up a makeshift base. It had MJ-12 written all over it. The LRV they had arrived in was, thankfully, still intact, though slightly banged up.

"Come on, get in." JC said. They clambered into the cramped submarine. JC punched controls rapidly, and brought the mini-sub out of the docking bay. He looked back at the Ocean Lab. Half of its right section was crumpling into the ocean floor. As they went on, the entire facility was lost to them in the blackening water.

* * *

Walton watched impassively as the image of the Ocean Lab on the screen flickered once, and disappeared from view, a comfortable eight miles away. There were several targets on the radar, but it was more than probable that it was just floating debris.

_So. That's it then._

"A good victory, sir." A commando said.

Walton said nothing. He turned back to the controls, and pushed the sub onward toward the surface. A helicopter was waiting above to pick them up, the submarine base no longer a viable extraction point, being under NSF control.

But despite what the radar said, he still couldn't help but feel he was missing something.

* * *

_One Hour Later..._

"Casaulty reports?" Decker asked the young NSF corporal. Contrary to their popular belief, he was still alive, and had been re-given rank of Lieutenant. He looked out to the rest of the facility from the top of the Command Module. NSF soldiers were walking about, carrying bodies over to the ocean. Given MJ-12s quick response time, they couldn't afford to stay here too long, but that didn't mean they couldn't just leave all the evidence. The former MJ-12 scientists were currently clambering onto a helicopter behind him, bound for X-51. They were probably happy to go, too.

"Two casaulties, sir." The young man said. He looked about nineteen, probably not fully understanding what he was really fighting for. Decker hated that. It put their underground recruiters in the mind as brainwashers. "Most of their forces were disjointed by Denton coming through."

"Alright, you keep on it."

"Very good, sir." The young corporal left.

Decker smirked slightly to himself as he realized he had been holding his hands behind his back, like some royal commander. He had practically forgotten how to act like rag-tag rebel officer. He looked back, and saw Sandra standing beside him. He hadn't even heard her coming. She rested her head on his shoulder. He found himself smiling like an idiot, forgetting his inner rant about the proper stance of a lieutenant.

"Hey." He said.

"Are we gonna be able to keep this place?" She asked.

"Probably not, so we're just gonna leave after we're through here."

"Savage was talking about a missile hitting his base." Sandra said. "There's a lot of people there...including dad." Ever since her reunion with her father, she had been obsessing over his well-being.

"We have JC to take care of that." Decker said.

"I hope he made it." She said.

"Yeah, so do I." Decker agreed. In the end, they really couldn't get on without the guy. He was the personification of destruction, but they needed him just the same.

"I love you." Sandra blurted, looking up at him. It was the first time she had actually said it, but both of them knew it. Hell, everyone did.

"I know." Decker said. He hugged her tight.

* * *

When they came up onto the roof of the Command Module, Savage was there, along with Decker, Sandra, and host of NSF rebels. Jocks helicopter hovered nearby, two NSF troopers hanging around near it. Paul was also lounging inside, a sniper rifle tucked into his hands. Vixen instantly went off into the helicopter probably eager for a little shut-eye. Savage rushed up to JC, grinning madly.

"You did a helluva fine job, JC." He said.

"I know." JC mumbled, barely keeping himself on two feet. "How long until the UC is up?"

"Tonight, if the schematics are accurate. But we have another problem."

"Page said he was launching a missile at Vandenberg."

"Exactly." Savage said, scratching the back of his neck, "His troops have occupied a silo north of here."

"Any demands?" JC asked.

"He just wants to wipe us out." Savage said.

"I'll get over there as quickly as possible." JC said, turning for the helicopter.

"Great. And by the way, JC, I really can't thank you enough for saving Tiffany." His eyes went to the floor, suddenly filled with emotion.

"It's fine, Savage. I don't expect a reward."

"Everyones wrong about you, you know." He said, "You're a great person. You'll have to make some difficult decisions soon, but I know you'll choose correctly."

"Thank you." JC said. And he meant it. "How's Tong?"

"He's in critical condition." Savage said gravely. "I don't think he'll survive the night unless we can manufacture the cure in time."

JC processed this briefly, "Here's hoping."

"Indeed. You'd better get going to that silo, Jock already knows where to go. Your brothers gonna come with you to help with the initial resistance."

"Thanks Savage."

"No, thank you."

And he walked past him, into the elevator.

When he turned back, Sandra was right there, in front of him. She was smiling broadly.

"JC, I really wanted to thank for you rescuing dad." She said. "It's funny. I didn't think I'd really grow to like him ever again."

He smiled, "Well, don't be too hard on him now. And it's Vixen you should be thanking. She took a bullet for that."

"No." She said, "I'm thanking you. Without you, we wouldn't have gotten this far."

JC nodded. She went forward, and hugged him tightly. "Good luck." She whispered. "Give them hell."

"I will." JC said. She let go, and walked back over to roofs edge, taking occasionally looks back at him. It was so strange. He felt so happy.

Decker was next, he walked over, and shook his hand. "I'm glad you made it."

"So am I." JC said, nearly ready to collapse. He ran his hand through his hair. It was longer then he would have expected it to be.

"I'm a Lieutenant again." Decker said, "I think I've got more business with the NSF then I would have expected."

"It all seems to be working out." JC said.

"Well, it won't if that missile sticks around." He shook his hand again, "You're a good guy, JC." He walked back over to Sandra, where they embraced. JC stood there on the roof, wind suddenly howling around him.

Then he turned, and jumped into the helicopter.

* * *

_"All of what I have planned is truly working out, yes...God will come shortly. But not in the way everyone expects."_

* * *

Authors Note: Wow...That turned out better than I had expected. Sometimes(but not often) it feels good to prove myself wrong. Anyway, there's Chapter Forty. To tell you the truth, I never really believed I'd get this far. Of course, all of your optimism was a great inspiring for me, and I'd like to thank you all again. 


	41. Missile Silo

_**Deus Ex: The Conspiracy**_

Chapter Forty One: Missile Silo

The binoculars jerked heavily in JC's hands as he attempted to focus on the collection of squat gray buildings in the distance. Gales of wind struck the helicopter as it attempted to hover in place in what Jock probably hoped to be an inconspicious location. Smoke seemed to be rising from the base. It clearly hadn't been under their control for long. He wondered vaguely who had been inside when MJ-12 attacked as he struggled to maintain his view of the base.

"I can barely see a damn-" He began.

"Two guard towers, one a water tower, second an observation post. Four guards on each one. Two security bots patroling the outside. No sentries outside." Paul said behind him, looking through the scope on his rifle.

JC felt an unexplainable surge of jealousy, and he realized just how long he had been out of active contact with his brother. He had only recently learned to control himself when Paul outdid him. Being away from him had desensitized him to this.

Paul looked out from the scope, oblivious to JC's sudden inner outrage, "There's gonna be no way to get in there quietly. I say we just drop JC and V outside the entrance, and you circle around with the copter' while I provide covering fire."

"Good plan, Paul." Jock said immediately.

"Uh huh." JC said. When was the last time Jock had told him "good plan?"

Jock briefly consulted a screen on his elaborate control panel, "Thermals show lot's of troops below ground, and inside the buildings. Be careful, JC, and lure them out so Paul can take them out."

_I'm more than capable._ JC thought. Why was he like this all of a sudden? "Sounds good," JC said, "Get us over there, Jock."

"Sure thing." He said. He brought the helicopter out of hover, and began to cruise towards the missile silo. JC leaned against the plexiglas window, staring forward at the base.

Why had he suddenly felt so agitated towards Paul? It was immature of him. If anything, he had been helping him. Could it be possible that he was doubting his own abilities? After what he'd _been_ through? No. It was spur of the moment, no more. The feeling still lingered, though...

He looked back at Vixen. She was in the back, staring off into space as if in a dream. Ever since escaping the lab, she had been acting so strange...Sometimes she would stare at him for minutes at a time, not even acknowledging that JC had even noticed. Was it possible that-

He looked out the window again, and the base was suddenly below them. He jerked up out of his seat, along with V as the hatch slid open. Paul instantly leaned out, sniper rifle in hand. It didn't take long for him to re-locate his targets, and he fired six times before reloading.

"Got six of em', go!" He yelled.

JC jumped out of the helicopter, tucked forward, and rolled out onto the desert floor, kicking up dust. Vixen followed, brandishing her SMG. JC took out his assault rifle, and he quickly serveyed the area as Jock brought the copter' back up into the air with Paul still firing. They were outside the front gates, so they had two directions for which to go. Ok. So they would split up-

"JC!"

JC turned just in time to watch a thoroughly enraged rotweiler leap at him from the shadows that the large wall surrounding the base generated. With a surprised yell, JC bent backward, went too far, and collapsed to the dust below. The guard dog sailed right over him, hit the dirt, and collapsed as V fired two shots at it.

"More of them!" She yelled. Indeed, more dogs were dashing at them from the western path. He took out his pistol, and shot them all once, halting their charge. That first one was lucky...A single shot echoed from above, coupled with a cry of pain from somewhere behind the wall.

There was silence, finally. The interior of the base uttered not a sound. It was disconcerting, to say the least. After the blockbusting entrance, JC would have expected a more immediate response.

"That's the last of them, "Paul said over the info-link, "I'm not seeing any more activity...I guess they couldn't sound an alarm in time. Be careful, though, there might be some I missed."

Jock came through as well, "I'm gonna take her a mile out, don't wanna risk anymore visual contact."

The soft thumping of the stealth chopper grew distant, and then gone.

"Alright, our objective is to re-program the missile to hit Area 51." JC began to re-cap, "The NSF know the location, and a large contingent of forces are waiting for the missile to strike. From there, they'll take out Page."

Vixen frowned, "So no James Bond final confrontation?"

JC sighed, "Everett spent a long time in the helicopter telling me the plan, over and over again. He wants to send in a large group of forces to secure Area 51, presumably for his own ends. From there..."

"We figure out what to do next." V finished grimly. "I think after this, this is it."

JC nodded, "I'll take the eastern wall. You go west."

Vixen nodded, "Yeah. Be careful."

"I always am." JC said. He allowed himself to smile.

She returned it.

* * *

"Mr. Strong?"

Howard felt a sudden surge of pain. Gingerly, he got out from the maintenance crawlspace, a little more carefully this time. Above him, the missile hissed, gas billowing from sections of the infrastructure of the silo. Several tech teams were busy working on it. The thing was clearly old, probably from the twentith century, but that still didn't take away the fact that it could wipe locations cleanly from the map. The big-head leaders during the Cold War just _really_ over did it. But hey, you had to compliment them on their paranoia. But that really just came from the Illuminati.

The MIB behind him coughed slightly, and moved away to allow his superior room to stand. They were impressive creations, no doubt. They showed utter loyalty, steadfast adaptivity in combat, but that didn't take away from the fact that they were still merely human. It just wasn't interesting to Howard. MJ-12 was litteraly built upon improving the human body, so why should he care about a research they had been pursuing for years?

Now transgenics...Those were worth his time. Such simple creatures they were. True animals at heart. It was the Karkians that really appealed to him. They were like land-dwelling sharks, eager for blood, and not afraid to turn to their own species for sustenance. Gray's were just annoying. Too intelligent, like humans. They were monkeys, granted, but they were made from DNA collected at Roswell, a genome constantly recreated in labs. That essentially made them like the people that started this whole mess.

Strong didn't even want to _think_ about Greasels, impressive as they were. But too weak-

Aha! He was thinking about them. Naughty, naughty.

"Well, what is it?" Strong asked. He had to get this damned thing running in time. He looked at the MIB, now seeing his fact in the light. It was Agent Karyo, known for his compulsive nervousness, but more largely for his name.

"Er, " Karyo hesitated, "We've lost contact with the surface, and the cameras are showing...er..."

Howards left eye began to twitch in a disturbing fashion, "Out with it!"

"You'd better follow me." Karyo sighed. Howard followed him. He followed him all the way to the computer processing room, where the camera monitor was located. Karyo toggled a few buttons, and black and white images of the outside of the base began to play. Howard wrinkled his nose slightly at this. Surveillance was far more efficent nowadays. He hated having to rely on this 1990's technology.

The images displayed the base as it usually did. Karyo fidgeted slightly, and pressed "Fast forward." The guards went about their patrol routes at high speed. Suddenly, however, the bottom left camera suddenly showed a large, intrusive, and clearly not-supposed-to-be-there helicopter appear on the screen. On the other cameras, the patroling guards began to die at a particularly quick rate. Back at the other, JC Denton and Agent Vixen jumped from the copter, killed several dogs, and the image froze.

Howard goggled.

"Uh, should I send a team up?" Karyo suggested.

Howard processed the situation for a good ten seconds, Karyo smartly remaining silent.

"No," he finally said, "We'll lay a trap for him. Bring all of our forces to the missile silo. Leave this room and the entrance un-guarded. It won't matter if he re-programs the missile."

"Re-programs?"

"Page told me to watch out for Denton." Howard explained, "He'll probably re-program the missile to hit Area 51. From in the silo, though, I still have an internal link. So he'll have to go through me to actually get his lil' plan to work."

Karyo nodded enthusiastically, agreeing that Strong was a smart chap.

"So we'll set a trap of a few dozen commandos to ambush him in the umbilical corridor. The lights have an on/off switch in there..."

* * *

Darkness encompassed Vixen as she slowly made her way across the desert floor, approaching the door of the guard post. Encompassed in darkness. She frowned wearily as she remembered the last time she had harboured such a thought. No cyber mercenary could prepare her for going against MJ-12s forces, though. Yet she had managed.

She _had_ been managing ever since she'd teamed up with JC. Maybe several nights ago she would have blamed it on his helping her during combat, but even without him around she had been more competent against her enemies. Had she been learning from him without knowing it? Or...did his mere presence give her the confidence in battle. The recklessness of her actions. She couldn't explain it. He had jumped into countless situations that could've killed him hundreds of times, and just for the sake of _helping_ people. She knew what she was getting into when she had joined MJ-12, and when she had switched sides. But would she jump into a firefight just to help people? No. It wasn't like her. And what about now?

_I am helping to destroy this missile so that Vandenberg does not get destroyed._

_**I am helping to destroy this missile because if Vandenberg is destroyed, I could be in danger. **_

There was that indecision. Was she learning? Or was she still only looking out for her own ends? That was perhaps her basest instinct. Save your own skin. It was why she had changed sides so much. Would she do the same thing to JC?

As she neared the door, voices from inside drifted out into the night to greet her.

"...the codes?"

"Howard Strong. They want his group to have exclusive access to the silo."

From the sounds of their voices, it was a gaggle of MJ-12 troopers. Apparently they were unaware of their incursion into the base...

"...know's what he's doing."

"My squad eliminated the dangerous employees."

"Two words: New York City."

Vixen slowly peeked over the pane set into the door. There were five troopers inside. Three of them were gathered around a table, playing poker, in their black uniforms. Another was lounging near the stairs, wearing casual clothes. And another was sleeping in one of the beds nearby. A single light bulb hung over the congregation of troops, The rest of the room was relatively shrouded in darkness.

She was thinking about Howard Strong, though. He was one of the newly appointed councilers...or what was left of them. From what she could recall, he was untrustworthy at best, and a paranoid psychopath to boot. What he did before joining MJ-12 was...shady, at the least, but she knew that it had involved running an obscure mercenary group called the "Raiders." From what the troops were saying, it didn't sound like they approved of him running the silo operation.

Inside, the soldiers carried on their conversation for another minute, and then switched on to another, less relevant topic. Vixen began to think up some methodical points of entry. Then the lightbulb flickered, and went out.

"Shit. It blew again."

"Goddamn pre-mellenial tech..."

Seizing this opporutunity, Vixen slowly creaked open the window. It made a little noise, but the troopers escalating voices drowned it out. The room was in total darkness. Carefully, she pulled herself over the threshold of the window, and slinked down onto the floor. She vaguely hoped none of them would accidentally step on her. That would be embarrassing, not to mention fatal for her.

"This thing dates all the way back to...1950! That's a hundred years ago!"

"So the boy can do math!"

The room filled with nervous laughter. Was it possible that they thought something was amiss?

She heard the sound of them unscrewing the lightbulb. She wanted to get upstairs before the lights came back on, but the darkness worked both ways. She wouldn't be able to see where she was going.

"Can't see shit."

"Wow, neither can I. They oughta name you Sergeant Obvious."

"It's _captain_ obvious."

"Oh, yeah..."

Ignoring the conversation for a moment, Vixens eyes began to adjust to the darkness. That probably meant they were, too. She could make out the basic outline of the troops moving bodies, and the stairs. She moved toward it, keeping sure to stay towards the side. One bed, then another, dampening her movement. Third bed...

"OW!"

"What's wrong!"

Vixen jerked back as if she'd stepped on a rattle snake--which is what it may as well have been--, for she had climbed onto the sleeping trooper.

"Someone was on top of me!"

"Who?"

"I dunno! One of you, I guess."

"I didn't step on you."

"Neither did I."

"Ditto."

Cursing silently, Vixen gripped her MP7.

There was a sharp click, and the lights snapped on. Every set of eyes in the room locked onto her. V pointed her machine gun at the closest trooper, and unloaded five shots into his torso. The trooper fell back into his chair with a bang. Fluidly, she turned around, and double tapped the once-sleeping soldier. After this short sequence, the guns came out, but Vixen was already running towards the stairs.

With a flying kick, she knocked the soldier in her way five feet back, wheeled around the bannister, and ran up. Gunshots followed her up, none finding their target. Upstairs she found another soldier, who had been in the process of coming to see what all the commotion was about. Vixen flicked her combat knife out from her belt, and slashed his throat in a fluid motion. She grabbed his floundering body, and pushed him down the stairs, blood spurting from his wound. She turned back in time to watch the soldier collide with another, and they both collapsed to the ground, the one she had wounded now very dead.

She gave a quick glance to the ammunition display on her SMG, saw that she was good, and pointed it down the stairs. With a quick _paff paff_ she killed the trooper who had collided with the corpse as he was trying to get up. She turned and ran to the door on the other side of the room, pausing only to kick it open. She turned, and examined it for a lock. There was a simple bolt lock, which wouldn't really work well. She locked it anyway. She turned back, and found herself on a raised catwalk, one that led into the interior of the fence.

Several seconds later, there was a dull thud on the door. Another rang out, and the room went quiet, save for scammpering feet. Then, then the two windows were blasted out in a quick burst of fire. The two surviving troopers appeared at them, and both tossed LAM's. Vixen deftly grabbed one of them in mid flight, ignored the shaking, and tossed it back inside. She bent down, plucked the other one up, and tossed it inside as well.

After this brief task, she laid down surpressing fire onto the windows to keep the troopers from coming back. She covered ears in time for the duel explosions, which shot up from the roof of the structure in a violent plume. When she looked up, the top floor looked to be on the brink of collapse. She heard the floor sag, and drop down into bottom level. The rest of the building collapsed into itself with that event.

"Having fun?"

V turned around to face JC, who had somehow managed to get himself into the base before she had. He looked past her, at the ruined guard post.

"Tons." She said dryly, "How did you-"

"Found a crawl-space in the wall." JC said simply.

Vixen cracked her neck, and marched past him, "What's the rest of the base look like?"

"It's clean." He said, following her. "Most of them were killed by Paul. Looks like you got the rest."

They went down the ramp, and onto the main grounds. Most of it looked like it had been hit by an airstrike.

"Looks like I don't need your help ALL the time..." V said, sweeping her gun back and forth.

"No." JC said, "No, I guess not."

* * *

Strong tapped his head furiously as he watched the video feeds. Currently it was showing both JC Denton sneaking into the base, and the turncoat bitch gleefully shooting up a guard post. Communications between the underground and the upper base had been severed, for some unknown reason. Behind him, Karyo nervously chewed on his nails.

Strong wasn't nervous however. In fact, he was feeling pretty damned confident. The two rebels were currently heading toward the little shack on the edge of the base that would lead them down into the rest of the silo, but on the way, they'd have to pass two maintenance garages. Inside were two Delta 2 security bots, both active. And there was no cover to speak of. The bots would gun the little bastards down like wheat before they'd have a chance to run...

As if on cue, the two rogue agents went alongside the garages. Strong gleefully pressed a button, and the doors opened.

* * *

As soon as JC spotted the bipedal legs of a Delta 2 security bot behind the opening garage door, he grabbed Vixen and sprinted around the side of the building.

_"Target aqcuired! Evasive action recorded."_

"Bots." JC said.

"I noticed." Vixen replied dryly. The mechanical clanking of the bots legs soon followed.

"Got any EMP's?"

She took a moment to fish around her pockets, producing two grenades. She opened her mouth to say something, but one of the bots appeared behind her. The two agents rolled to the left just as the Delta 2 opened fire. They got up, and instantly ducked into one of the small buildings that had been semi-bombed.

_"Targets have taken cover at location juliet echo."_

_"Roger."_

Vixen looked up at the non-existant ceiling of the shack. "Should I toss one over?"

JC looked as well, "Too much of a gamble, wait until you're sure of your throw."

They waited, keeping their eyes glued to the bombed out section of the wall, where one of the bots would surely appear. The two Delta's stomped audiably towards the building, but could not seem to find any way to pursue their quarry.

_"Structural intrusion located at juliet echo, side one."_

_"Exploiting."_

"Get ready." JC whispered.

A bot appeared in front of the burnt out wall. Vixen instantly tossed her grenade. The EMP hit the bot square in the "face" and detonated on contact.

"_Blfftzz grhhz location niner gjpbbbz..."_

Having said this last, the bot sizzled, and crumpled to a heap.

"_Unit Bravo-2 is down. Archieving method of dispatchment."_

"It's not gonna come over now." Vixen translated. That meant it was going to wait for them. And bots weren't known for their impatience.

"Alright, new plan." JC said, quickly thinking up a new plan of action. "I'll go out there and take him out." He loaded an HE 20mm shell into his assault gun. "If that doesn't work, go out with me and toss an EMP."

Vixen nodded, and got up, tossing her last grenade up and down. JC breathed in and out, in a quick burst, and activated his speed aug. Then, he leaped out, and turned in mid air to face the bot.

"_TARGET!"_

He fired his shell. It went wide, and slammed into the wall behind the bot. The building shook violently. Then, Vixen dashed out, and tossed her grenade. The bot quickly switched its base of fire, and shot the EMP in mid flight.

_Fuck!_ JC thought as he hit the ground. He was out of ideas--If the bot didn't kill him before he could get back to cover.

"_Target acquired." _The bot said smugly. Its chain gun began to rotate, pointing at JC.

The wall the 20mm shell had collided with sagged, and fell forward, burying the bot in debris and rubble.

* * *

"_WHAAAT!"_ Strong screamed. He shook the monitor accusationally. Surely it was malfunctioning. Denton had been dead. He was DEAD! Buried, with flowers, and a tombstone. He was-

Strong sagged backward into his chair, defeated of his own inner rant. Karyo whimpered audiably behind him.

What had happened was impossible. How could one be so close to victory, only to have it eagerly snuffed away by a collapsing wall!

_No. It wasn't impossible if you clearly saw it happen. It just...doesn't happen often, is all-_

Damnit!

"Er, Mr. Strong?" Agent Karyo said.

"Wh...at?" Strong asked.

"They're coming inside."

* * *

The elevator came to a screeching halt, and JC and Vixen walked out, looking around. There wasn't much in the initial room worth looking at, sans the huge door blocking their path forward.

Meanwhile, Vixen finally came forward and said, "You were damned lucky."

"I know." JC said. He had a headache just thinking about the odds against what had saved his life.

He chose this moment to frown at the door. "Er, any ideas?"

His info-link buzzed in before Vixen could come up with an answer.

"Hold on, code is...8456. But that's an old piece of trivia from my Area 51 days. I don't know if it still works."

JC looked around momentarilly, before spotting the keypad set into a panel on the right side of the blast door. With a quick stroke of the keys, the door churned, and opened up. JC grinned triumphantly, but this was quickly snuffed when he saw yet another door in front of him.

"Probably the same code." Vixen said.

JC punched in the same code, on a similar looking keypad. The door opened up. Marveling at the poor security, JC continued on in, coming to a cross-roads. Two doors on either side of the room were there, the left marked "Missile Command", and the other "Silo."

"Should we split up again?" JC asked.

"Nah. We work better together." She added a smile onto this.

Controling his face carefully, JC shrugged, and went straight into Missile Command. As the door opened, a LAM was tossed in through the growing slit between the plates of the door. JC deftly caught it in mid-air, and threw it back in, hearing a sudden sqawk of

radio chatter.

_"He tossed it back in!"_

_"Run-"_

The LAM detonated. There was a _thump thump_ of two bodies smacking into the wall, followed by the heart-monitor flatline characteristic of Commandos.

_"Revenants two and four down, please advise."_

_"Lay down surpressing fire."_

Shrapnel cascaded through the now fully opened door. JC and Vixen took cover at the opposite ends of the door, both taking out their machine guns.

"Watch out for another grenade!" JC yelled above the growing din of gunfire.

"Roger!" V yelled. She leaned over, and took a few pot-shots. JC did the same. As he looked over, he counted at least six Commandos inside. An MIB holding a silver magnum was just behind them. The MJ-12 agent saw JC, and switched his fire over to him before he could get a shot in.

"You're surrounded Mister Denton. Step out with your hands above your heads."

JC responded by taking out a LAM, and tossing it inside the room. Then he leaned back out, spotted the LAM clutched in the hands of one of the Commandos, and shot him three times in the head. The first two weakened the substantial armour the Commandos typically wore, but the third punched through easily. The heart-monitor screeched as the Commando flopped backward, LAM clutched in death grip.

_"GET DOWN-"_

The explosion ripped through the room, followed by three more flatlines. A secondary explosion signaled the death of the MIB. To the side, V pumped her fist in victory.

_"Fuck, fall back!"_

_"Please advise, Revenants three six and one are down! Agent Hemingway down-"_

JC and Vixen dashed out from cover and killed the remaining two Commandos in a flurry of gunfire. They flopped to the metal floor, having tried to run up the stairs that were nearby.

"Whoo..." Vixen said. She looked over to where the MIB had been standing. Only a pool of gore remained, "What did he mean by surrounded?"

Behind them, the silo door opened up, revealing a plethora of MJ-12 troopers.

"Oh." Vixen said, as she dashed for cover once again. JC sighed to himself as he did the same.

* * *

Strong drummed his fingers effortlessly on the monitor, now inside the security office near the silo. Behind him, Karyo was down to his last nail. God, what a _disgusting_ habit. He oughta give him a piece of his mind-

Another explosion ripped across the monitor screen, turning his attention back to the losing battle MJ-12 was waging against Denton. Agent Hemingway and his squad was leveled to two Commandos with one lousy ka-boom. As he stared in rage, the two rebels blockbusted in and cleaned up the rest of them. His comm unit beeped insistantly. He stabbed the "talk" button, and settled back down.

_"Sir, we're ready to go in, over."_

"Do it, over." Strong said resignedly. He already knew they were gonna die anyhow.

He switched the cameras so he could monitor his troops exclusively, keeping the radio on.

_"Alright, go in in five."_

He watched the head trooper stick his hands out, subtracting one finger with every second. Before he could get to "one" however, the monitor suddenly died. Strong looked over accusingly at Karyo, as the doors began to open on the radio.

"Must be a power flux, sir, they need the energy for the missile." Karyo said.

"Hmph." Strong grunted. He turned to the radio.

_"Doors open...TWO TARGETS! MOVE, MOVE, MOVE!"_

Of course there were two...What morons.

_"Taken evasive action. Two and three, grenade em'."_

There was a chucking sound as two LAM's were thrown.

_"Fan out, they'll probably throw them- GET DOWN!"_

_"Move!"_

Dual explosions sounded over the radio. Followed by the chugging noise of machine gun fire.

_"Unit three and four down, go, go!"_

_"Man down!"_

_"Six and eight, move in!"_

More gunfire.

_"Unit eight down! Unit seven-"_

_"Fuck, fuck! Unit one down, Unit two taking command."_

_"He's too fast-ARGGRAAGH!"_

_"Uhh, u-unit five is down. Uh, hey! Her, there she is, shoot-agh!"_

The monitor flashed back to life for a split second. Half of the squad was gone, and blood covered the room. Like devils on the Earth, the two turncoat agents swept among them, smiting them. It looked like something out of a horror movie. Then the image went blank again.

_"U-unit two is down, unit six as-s-suming c-comman-"_

_"Fall back! Fall back!"_

_"Negative! We're pinned down!"_

_"YEAAAAARGH...AH!"_

_"Get back-ouf! AGH!"_

_"Unit twelve assumi-"_

_"Where am I! Where'd you go! Who's out there! I'm alone, help!-"_

There was a smooth, ominous silence over the radio. Karyo finally bit onto his thumb, drawing blood. Strong merely continued to tap the monitor.

Behind him, the phone rang. He sprang forward and picked it up.

"Hello?"

"Page. What's going on?" Came a familiar voice.

"Sir, all efforts we made to stop them failed, they're heading to the command room now to re-program the missile."

"Goddamnit. Your internal link still works, correct?

"Uh huh." Strong said.

There was a pause. Then, "We're sending a helicopter to pick you up. We'll fire the missile externally."

"Er, sir. There's an enemy chopper outside. The SH-17, I think..."

"Then you'd better hope ours gets you out in one piece."

Page hung up.

* * *

At the terminal, JC waited for Vixen to press the "Abort" button. He absently bent down to wipe some of the blood off his trenchcoat. The glass shield slid down, and JC opened the terminal. Here, he quickly consulted with Savage for the coordinates, inputted the correct login and password, and changed the coordinates to Area 51.

"Mission complete." JC reported, "Let's get out of here."

"About damn time." V said.

On the infolink; "Launch sequence started!" Savage reported happily, "It's gonna be a sunny day at Area 51."

Page also came in, not exactly to JC's surprise, "Just like you're lab work Savage: Premature celebration."

"You've got about ten minutes, Page." Savage said smugly.

"As a scientist, you should have learned to expect surprises."

With a chuckle, Page cut out. Savage was quick to deduce what was wrong, "JC, get to the silo! Make sure no one interferes with the launch!"

JC groaned inwardly, "Not done yet." He said.

"Crap, what now?" V asked.

"Another trick up Page's sleeve. We've gotta clear the silo before the launch."

"Never is that simple, is it." Vixen sighed.

JC frowned, as he ran. "It's never _been_ simple."

They cleared the stairs down to the rest of the command center, and went in through the connecting hall, toward the Silo, stopping only to clear resistance. Soon they came up to umbilical corridor, connecting that hall, and the silo. Steam rose up at the end, along with a long white cylinder that JC knew to the be the missile. There were no enemies in sight. He began to walk along it when the lights suddenly began to die ahead of him. With an impotent slam, each one set off. Ahead he could make out several MJ-12 soldiers of various rank coming at him. Two MIBs, several Commandos, and a gaggle of troopers. Bullets began to fly all around them.

"JC!"

JC turned back to V. She was holding a panel in the floor up, and gesturing for him to get in. He dived inside--And slammed his head against the tilted floor. Groaning, he snaked his legs in as Vixen screamed for him to hurry up. He slid down, followed shortly by V. The not exactly thrilling ride came to a halt in a pool of water at the bottom of the silo.

With some effort, JC swam up to the surface, where he was greeted by shouting voices and the clanking of machinery. Vixen came up behind him, and spat water out of her mouth.

"Bleh..." She said. She glared at JC, "You took your time. I'm lucky I wasn't shot."

_"Seven minutes to launch! All personal evacuate to an optimal distance."_

"Will someone _please_ re-program the missile!" Came a shout from above, dwindling all other voices. It was loud and high pitched. JC guessed that the voice belonged to Howard Strong.

"I'm on it!" Came another voice.

JC looked around frantically for a way up. Surely enough, the elevator shaft that went up the structure also came down there. He swam over, and stabbed the down button.

"What's going on with Denton!"

"Uh, they went through the panel."

"WHAAT?"

The elevator finally came down. No one seemed to notice. JC and Vixen clambered onto it.

"Everyone get out of here! Go find them!" Strong screamed

V turned to JC, "If we get rid of Strong, that'll give us enough time for the missile to launch."

_"Five minutes to launch and counting!"_

JC pressed the "Level One" button, and the elevator began to ascend. As they went up, they spotted masses of MJ-12 troops looking around for them. A single trooper turned to look at the elevator, and gaped.

"THERE!"

JC and Vixen spread out as bullets began to fill the elevator space. They both took a few shots into the crowd as the elevator continued upward. Then they cleared that level. The two former agents quickly reloaded, and pointed their weapons out again.

"What do you MEAN they're on the elevator!" Howard yelled from above.

The elevator went up to level four. More troopers were there in wait. JC laid down a short burst of fire, enough get them to seek cover. One of them took a pot-shot.

At first, JC didn't think it had connected, but then Vixen grunted. JC turned swiftly towards her. She fell forward, out of the elevator. Blood trailed her descent downward, as she turned lazy circles in mid-air. Then, with a heavy slap, she hit the metallic floor. JC bent down, his eyes widdening. "Vixen!" He yelled. He couldn't tell where she had been shot. Was she...?

Before he could truly see, the elevator slid up past level four. Gunfire erupted from below, but he couldn't be sure if it was from her, or the troopers finishing her off.

"Vixen!" JC yelled again.

"He's coming up! Get him!"

_"Four minutes to launch!"_

The elevator slid up past level three. JC kept his eyes firmly glued to the floor, unable to believe what had just happened. He couldn't be sure if she was dead or not. Had the fall been too high? Did she even live long enough to be conscious when she did hit the floor? He found that he was trembled ferociously. He was unsure of how to react to this happening. He couldn't imagine it.

The elevator went past level two, where several MIB's were. JC ran off to the side as they attempted to jump up onto the elevator. He quickly round house kicked the first one off. That MIB collided with the other one, and they both fell back. Then the elevator hit level one, at the nose of the missile...and a cherry picker. He quickly forgot about the cherry picker, though, when he saw who was on it. Howard Strong stood there, wearing glasses and a mean look. He also carried a plasma rifle.

He quickly jumped off to the side as a volly of super-heated slugs of energy roared past him, and collided with the wall. He pulled out his magnum, and attempted to fire, but the MJ-12 counciler turned toward him instantly, firing again. JC ran towards him, and jumped to avoid the plasma.

"Not too macho, are we? Don't worry! It doesn't even matter if you re-programed it! I can blow this damned thing up remotely!"

"Shut...up!" JC yelled. He quickly jumped forward, and clung to the cherry pickers crane. Howard grunted at this, and leaned over the edge. JC couldn't take his hands off the crane, without falling. So he started to climb up to meet Strong head on.

"Catch!" Strong said.

JC looked up in horror. Strong had a LAM in his hands. With a patronizing wink, he tossed it at him. JC quickly considered his options of evasion when...

...the LAM bounced off a part of the crane, and flew back up into the air, into the cherry picker. Strong yelped, and JC heard him fumbling with the shaking grenade. Once he had a good grip, he leant back to toss it to JC again. JC looked up.

Just in time to watch the LAM detonate in Strongs fingers. JC shielded his eyes. When he opened them, he could barely make out what looked like a human skull falling down towards the water below. With a resigned grunt, JC got into the picker, and then jumped back out onto Level One.

_"Two minutes to launch."_

JC's infolink buzzed in. It was Jock, "Get topside! The missiles about to launch!"

"Hold on!"

JC got into the elevator. He pressed level four. The elevator whined at the long-time abuse it was being put to, but went down just the same. It went down the levels. The MIB's from level two were gone. Down to three. He caught a glimpse of two tuxedo wearing figures struggling with a blast door. Then it hit level four.

He felt a surge of relief as he saw Vixen, proped up against the railing, machine gun in hand. The bodies of the MJ-12 troopers were laid out around her. JC got out before the elevator had even touched down, and went over to her.

"Vixen..." He said, knealing down.

Absently, her eyes turned upward, toward him. "Hey." She looked at him closely. "Are you ok?"

"I'm fine," He said quickly."It's you we should worry about." He looked her up and down. She had been shot in the chest. He fished around his supplies, and injected a healing stim into the wound. He felt something twitch behind his eyes again. She got up, wincing, and JC helped her limp into the elevator.

_"ONE minute to launch! All personal evacuate at once!"_

As the elevator went upward, she looked up at him. "I didn't think...you would come back."

JC stared at her, not understanding, "Why wouldn't I?"

"Because...you don't trust me...right?"

Without thinking about it, he said, "No, that's not true."

As an underscore to this, and without really knowing what he was doing himself, he bent forward, and kissed her. Something alien to him fluttered briefly in his stomach. She wraped her arm around his shoulder, willingly falling into his embrace. He thought back to all the corny movies he had seen with Paul when he had lived with him. He was a sap for romance, which, in JC's opinion, had totally went against him being a counter-terrorist. Paul had simply shook his head, telling him that he would know what it would feel like to have a relationship soon enough, and that being a badass had nothing to do with it.

Now he knew.

He drew back, at the same time she did.

"That's that, then." Vixen said.

* * *

Page stared impassively as the radar showed two targets racing away from the Silo. One was Brian Flaneigans helicopter. The other was a military grade nuclear warhead. Only one of them was heading toward Vandenberg.

Gently, he bent forward, across the keyboard on his desk, to alert the above personal. Then, after a second thought, he drew back. Why bother. It may lower his defenses, but there was no way to stop what was coming. Not even an astronomical threat could stop it. It was time for Plan C.

He turned slightly, as his comm unit tingled his ear.

"Page." It was Helios. "The Infusion Chamber is ready for you. We are ready to take the step, to the next level..."

Page smiled. "Excellent. I'm on my way."

He got up from his desk, and left his office for the last time. In an hours time, he wouldn't even resemble something human anymore. But it hardly mattered. After the process, he would be a God among men. And no one...not even JC Denton, D0-2, Eric, or whatever the hell he wished to be called would be able to stop him.

It was time.

* * *

Jock turned triumphantly to JC, as the chopper flew silently through the air. Paul was already back at Vandenberg, helping with the evacuation effort. Now there would be no need to.

"You both did great." He said.

JC nodded, "Any news?"

He frowned, "Well, yeah. The small army Everett had in position to assault Area 51 came under attack a few minutes ago. It's gonna take them a while to repel the assault, and even longer to re-organize for the attack." He could see the doubt on JC's face, and he didn't like it. "Don't worry. There's a heros welcome waiting for you at Vandenberg."

JC stared at him, but slowly shook his head. "No. If that's the case...then we're going."

Jock acted like he didn't know what he was talking about, cringing, "Where?"

"Area 51."

"Uh, you sure?"

He turned to Vixen, who was sitting close to him. _Very_ close, Jock realized. He'd never seen them do that before. She nodded at him, silently.

"We're going after Bob Page."

* * *

Authors Note: And so we come to the final sequence in Deus Ex. The final battle between JC and Walton Simons is up next. 


	42. Area 51

_**Deus Ex: The Conspiracy**_

Chapter 42: Area 51

Far away from all the conspiracies and secret warfare, a lone fishing boat was at sea, in the middle of the Atlantic. It was a tiny boat. Pathetically small. One would call the fisherman who lived in it(he had no home to speak of, other than this boat) completely mad. But Seymour, for that was his name, cared not. He and the boat had weathered more than twenty storms, so he knew he had nothing to fear. He knew nothing else other than his boat, his water purifier, and the fish he ate.

And fish he did indeed eat, ever since he had set sail in 2031. When the second worldwide depression had struck the globe, he had decided he would simply pipe off and leave the world behind. No laws could restrain him out on sea, so he was free to do as he pleased without ever having to worry. He was merrily behind the times, and glad for it. For all he knew, Roderick Bell was still Prime Minister, the United States had invaded South America, and, for the hell of it, some secret society had arisen and virtually taken over the world. And he could care less, which suited him just fine.

If one were to ask him about the sort of life he led as a fisherman, he would reply with "relaxed." Indeed, not much could, and had never bothered to faze him. The storms were mild, he had seen no sea monsters, and it was a rare occasion indeed that he saw another boat. In all of his twenty years of fishing, nothing had simply bothered to try and make an impression on his life. One could say that the powers that be simply looked in the other direction.

And today, as his boat went near the little black lump in the water, seemed to be proving up to be just the same.

Now, he was no stranger to lost luggage at sea. Indeed, his collection included an old barbie doll, a parchment of scrawlings written in some arcane text, and even a suitcase filled to the very top with used condoms. So he expected this little black lump to be normal, but would be quite ready for it to be completely strange just the same. For all he knew, it was some sort of fish.

The boat went along side the black lump, which Seymour could now see to be cubic in shape. It clearly was not a fish. His interest piqued. With that thought, he threw down his net, and effortlessly snagged the object. With several quick tugs, he had it up, and in his hands. The box, while a stranger to the sea, had clearly been at the mercy of the elements for a long while. From his short anaylsis, he concluded that it was a box of some kind. There was a short inscription on the front. He peered at it, wiping some of the water off.

TEVAC C5 EXPLOSIVE. SELF RENEWING DETONATOR. USE WITH CAUTION.

Seymour tilted his head slightly, going back through his memory. The word "boom" came up several times, but he failed to connect it to anything. It was now that he began to notice a slight "beeping" noise. He frowned. Boom. Beep. It made little sense. He turned the bomb around.

00:10

He suddenly realized that he had used the word "bomb" as a mental description for the object. Now where had he heard that before...?

00:09

He glanced sharply at the bomb. The numbers had-

"AGH!" Seymour yelped. He tossed the bomb away, back into the ocean, as far as he could throw it. This accomplished, he scampered over to the controls of his boat, and gunned the motar, going to high speed. The boat roared away for a good five seconds before the bomb detonated. Light and sound competed in a sudden cacophony of violence. The boat rocked gently as the waves created by the bomb rippled across the water.

Seymour stared resolutely at the spot where the bomb had went off. Only a plume of smoke remained.

His heart was pounding, but overall it had been an ordinary day indeed.

This occurence had nothing to do with the epic events that were about to unfold, some hundreds of miles away, but it might serve as a warning to irresponsible pilots in the future.

* * *

"Open the door."

The white suited men in front of Walton Simons gathered around the blast door stiffly. Walton fidgited in annoyance, wanting blindly to feel at the place where Denton had shot him in the chest. He would take off the entire radioactive disposal hazard suit he was currently wearing just to get a feel. To remember. To let it fuel his newly founded hate for Denton.

The wound was gone now, of course. It had been for a long time now, made into nothingness by the technology that gifted and cursed him so. But it mattered not. He remembered where it was, even when it was gone. His hands drifted to the place where it would have been, but were held back by the hazard suit.

The foremost clean-up member punched in a code into the keypad next to the blast door. With a lamenting screech, it began to open. It was now that Walton noticed a sizable dent in door. Something hard, and big had collided against it. Now what could have-

The foremost crewman went through the still opening door, just as there was enough room. The rest of the crewmen had frozen, looking up at the large military jeep that was embedded in the door, which had made the...dent. With a shrill rattle, it was unlodged from its place in the door, and fell forward. On top of the crewman who was out there.

There was a loud, resonating boom as the crewmembers scurried away from the dust that was kicked up from the impact. Walton stood stiffly, a headache brooding in his brain. He looked down, and saw blood seeping out from underneath the jeep.

"Get some explosives down here, so we can clear a path." was all he said.

"Y-yes sir, Mr. Simons." came a voice from behind him.

From behind, the sound of running feet drifted across the tunnel, joined by more, until he was the only one left standing inside. Whether nauseated by the gruesome, and sudden death of a comrade, or afraid of his impassiveness, Walton knew not.

He took this moment of peace to observe the outside area. In doing so, he frowned considerably. Chunks of buildings were knocked down, and some had even collapsed, but the destruction was no where near the totality Page had been expecting.

Walton chuckled briefly at the thought of his "friend." How silly of him. Page no longer permitted anyone to speak of him as if he were mortal. He was a god now. Or would be soon. Walton did not particularly care. He briefly hoped for the infusion process to somehow fail, or go catastrophic. Not very likely. The simulation tests suggested a 95 success rate.

Yes, Page would soon be linked, directly, to Helios. And Helios, to the Universal Constructor. Not a God, in the literal sense, of course, but close. Yes, he would be able to live practically forever, yes, his power would influence and frighten the governments that would not immediately turn to his rule, and yes, Walton could see people bowing down to a regular human being who could do such things.

But those things would have to wait. For one thing, the Universal Constructor would be a problem. The delivery plate, so far, could only be stretched so far, which denied Page the capablities to build himself gigantic statues of himself in mere seconds. It would take a few years or so for the scientists(how foolish of Walton. Page, he meant) to build a UC the size of a large cavern, and a delivery plate to compensate. But maybe he would gain new insight be being linked to the AI, and the Aquinas Router. Who knew?

One thing was for certain, though. The world would be a dramatically different place in a year. That was for certain. How it would be different, Walton did not know. Page, of course saw food for all, equality for all, one world government. A literal Utopia. Walton, however, knew he would hopelessly abuse his power. Being linked to Helios would drop those ideas in an instant, and he would probably make things...difficult, to say the least, for many people on Earth.

Walton, on the other hand, saw _un_certainty. This came mostly because he knew the rebel factions were all converging on Area 51 like buzzards at that moment, no doubt led by JC Denton, and he didn't quite know who would eventually win. Page was cocky, that was to be expected, but Walton knew Denton. He knew his luck of the emperor, his unreal ability to survive, the inspirement he gave his allies. And above all, his tendency to destroy everything in his path. He was getting on the road to being more like a normal person, but he was still a killing-machine.

Walton briefly wondered if he even cared who won. The conspiracy, the politics, the hidden warfare, it was all...tiring. If he was to die, so be it. He would try to kill Denton. Try with all his might and spirit. But if he was killed in attempting so...He found, at this point, he could not bring himself to care.

A minute later, the hazard crewmen came back, carrying a weak C4 plastique. The one holding it handed it Walton. He turned, deftly, and placed it on the overturned jeep. He set it to five seconds, and leapt back. The others followed suit, more sluggishly. The C4 detonated, and sent the Jeep flying backward, coming to a halt ten meters away, but out of their path.

Walton stepped out without missing a beat, and again his thoughts turned to the amount of destruction the nuke had been meant to wreak upon the base.

"What is this?" He asked.

They knew what he meant, "Uh, I guess it wasn't a high grade warhead."

Walton turned shiftly, "Explain."

The man in front of him stiffened, "I think it was a tactical warhead, sir. Not meant to inflict heavy destruction."

Walton turned back. "So does that mean the radioactive levels aren't...lethal?"

"I don't think so, sir."

Without another word, Walton unzipped himself out of the suit. His trenchcoat flopped out from behind him with this new room. Then, he went into his pocket, drew a cigarette out of his pocket, and took a long, delicious drag on it.

He turned back to his charges, "Where did the nuke strike?"

They all simutaneously fumbled for their radios, to recieve that information. He only paid attention to the one in front of him.

"Uh, nuclear waste minimal, safe conditions. Where did the warhead strike, over?", He paused, then said, "Affirmative. Over and out."

The crewman looked up at Walton, "Uh, it struck the anti-air defense targetting compound, Mr. Simons."

"Fuck." Simons swore, turning around. That meant Denton and his precious helicopter could-

Walton froze, remembering the sabotuer at Everett's estate. They hadn't heard back from him, but if he had succeded...

He took a glance at his watch. The bomb had been scheduled to go off twenty minutes ago. If he had succeded, then JC and the SH-17 were now only so many atoms free-floating into the atmosphere. But if only he could be sure...

He sighed, taking out yet another cigarette. He turned back to the crewmen.

"Get word to the base commander that Page can move his army up here safely to meet with the NSF. I'm going to inspect the area."

"Yes, sir!" Came the universal, grateful reply. Then, they went back inside.

Walton walked around the perimeter of the base, looking over the damage...and keeping his eyes to the sky. Soon, when the NSF moved in, this place would be a battleground. He stared out to the rest of the base. To the fifty mile long airstrip that made Area 51 famous. Fires burned fiercely in the distance. Behind him troopers started coming out. They were going to do mop-ups around the base. Getting the castle ready for the new king. A unit entered the nearby hanger, and gun fire began to ring out. Eventually, they died away, and unit came back out, looking satisfied.

A few minutes later, he turned, and was about to head back inside when he heard the steady thrumming of chopper blades.

A regular person would not have seen it. But Walton saw it clearly. Silhouetted against the sky, the SH-17 belonging to Brian Flanegian approached the base. Walton turned, and ran, to look for an ample place to ambush JC. While running, he wondered if he should merely kill Denton with a single round from a sniper rifle when he got off. He ignored that notion. After all, he didn't care what happened. And what fun would killing JC right off the bat be? No. He would approach him as a warrior, and they would fight as men.

And Walton would give him Hell.

* * *

As soon as the chopper had landed, Jock yelled out to JC, "GO, GO!"

JC jumped out from the chopper, landing with a forward roll onto the almost completely destroyed helipad. As he got back up, he surveyed the destruction his intervening at the missile silo some hundreds of miles back had caused. This area was damaged, but not as horrifically so as the rest of the base. Fires burnt freely everywhere, and dozens of smoking wreaks along an _extremely_ long airstrip did as well. All of it was a ploy, however, to lower MJ-12's base defenses, to allow Everett's little private army enough of a route into the base. The base security nexus, Savage had told him, was right underneath ground zero.

Besides the apparent destruction, the place felt...eriee, to JC. Like he knew how to get around it like the back of his own hand. He felt a chill travel up his spine, at the thought.

Looking at the still burning flames, JC noticed some trucks still moving along the airstrip. They briefly stopped at some of the wreaks, and buildings. Looking for survivors, JC realized. JC briefly felt a pang of guilt for the amount of destruction he had caused, and the deaths that had followed, but then he realized that most of those killed had probably been immoral "camo dudes", or MJ-12's own para-militants. Still, however, the guilt was there...

The immediate area, like the rest of the base, was damaged, but not terribly. A control tower behind JC had several chips missing in the structure, and a hanger to the west barely had any roof left. Overturned vehicles also littered the area. And according to Savage, it was the easiest insertion point, for what he was intending to do. With most of MJ-12's military scrambling to repel the NSF attack, Savage had told JC that this was the best time to strike at the heart of it all. Bob Page. The plan was relatively simple. Blockbust his way into Area 51, penetrate through the defenses of Page's most hardened soldiers, get to Level Four(where Page was most likely to be, according to Savage, since that was where most of the technology researched at Area 51 was stored), and kill him. What would follow afterword...JC wanted to worry about that later.

He wouldn't deny it to himself. He was worried. And scared, to be even more blunt. Not merely because he was going against at least a hundred or so of Page's best men, and the fact that Area 51 was about to become a warzone, depending on when the NSF came around, but most of all he was worried about Page himself. All of his chatter about becoming a god. He was begining to believe that he was not merely trying to scare JC, but was actually serious. It had something to do with Helios, the spawn of Daedalus and Icarus, and the Universal Constructor. What did that mean...?

_We'll find out soon enough..._He thought to himself.

Vixen jumped down behind him, not even sparing a glance at the rest of the base, "Jock said there was a sniper up in the tower.", she said cooly, as if it were nothing serious. If it had been before their...moment, at the silo, then she might have sounded a bit more concerned. It was weird. It was a side-effect of them trusting each other.JC turned around just in time to see the glint of the snipers scope flashing, from up in the control tower. His vision flashed red as the laser sight got in his eye. Absently, JC dodged to the side as the sniper fired, and prepared to take out his own rifle to kill him. Amazing how...tedious killing people eventually became, when you got so _used_ to it.

But JC wasn't the one who killed him. As he got back up, rifle in hand, to take the shot, the snipers head became a cloud of blood, and the black uniformed soldier flopped out from the tower, and hit the ground with a dull thud. JC turned, and looked at Vixen. She was looking back at him, a queer look on her face. She wasn't even holding a gun.

"Did you-", she began.

"No." JC said. They both turned away from each other, surveying the rest of the area. Perhaps the NSF had sent a few scouts ahead? Although he knew it was silly, JC almost immediately felt the need to shield her from danger--even though she was perfectly capable of looking out for herself. They saw nothing.

"No time to dwell, let's go.", JC eventually said.

"Right.", she said, looking around. "Uh, how are we getting in?"

Her hand-held radio crackled, as did JC's infolink.

To his amazement, Tracer Tongs voice came into his head--sounding healthy, "I'm sending a satellite image of the part of the base you're in to your datavault, JC."

On cue, the structure, layout, and directions were instantly "uploaded" into JC's head. He memorized the "map" in an instant, and knew where to go.

"Page was weakened by the blast, "Tracer went on, "but you still need to get in through the blast doors to the north. There may be another way in though...Anyway, from the blast doors, you'll have to activate power for an elevator that will lead you down to Level Two. I seem to be in remission, JC. Everett is right: The virus has an on/off switch. At any rate, I can look after you again."

Tong cut out, and JC looked over to V, "We gotta get through some blast doors. Tong says there may be another way in, though."

They cut across the grounds, and passed several derelict wreaks of vehicles, and burnt corpses. Some of them had seemed to have been shot, rather than cooked by radiation. Speaking of which...

"Shit!" JC yelled. He looked around, as if trying to find a hiding place from something that could not be hid from.

"What!" Vixen asked frantically.

"The radiation. We could be getting radioactive poisoning right now!"

V stared silently for a momement, "Oh. Shit."

The infolink came to life as JC was beginning to panic. It was Tracer Tong, again, "Calm down! It was a tactical nuke, which means it was not as powerful. And besides, you're a good distance from where the warhead detonated."

JC's eyes narrowed, "Oh." Behind him, Vixen sighed.

"Hold on, "Tracer said, "I'm scanning the immediate security system...The blast doors are locked. You'll have to find a way to open them. I'd start in either the control tower, or the hanger."

"Roger that, thanks." JC said.

"Not a problem." Tong said, "Er, by the way. You haven't heard from Everett, have you?"

"No, not yet." JC said, puzzled by the question.

"Alright, just checking. I'm a little worried about his proposal to send an army in there. I'll keep in touch."

"I'll take the tower." Vixen said quickly, causing JC to raise an eyebrow.

"I'll handle the hanger, then." he said simply.

"JC?", V asked.

JC turned back to her, "Be careful.", she said. He took her hand, and squeezed it, "I will."

They stared at each other for a moment.

Then, they parted ways, and headed in opposite directions.

* * *

Walton sighed contentedly to himself as he saw JC heading his way, instead of Vixen. He shifted slightly, to get into a more comfortable position on the top of the hanger roof. If he was lucky, then he could catch JC down below. The enclosed space would leave little room for him to be able to run away, and they would fight...in peace. There was a lone, surviving soldier down in the hanger, but Walton couldn't be bothered with him, much less killing him.

So far, all was going according to plan. The sniper in the control tower had been an inconveniance to him, though, so he had to eliminate him before he could spoil his fun. Not that Walton actually expected JC to be thrwated by a simple soldier, but you never could know. And now the battlefield was clear. And Walton was feeling confident in himself, more and more. This wouldn't be like last time, at Pasedena.

An idea went through his mind briefly. Perhaps he should kill JC's little bitch as she made her way over to the control tower. Yes...that would get him pumped up for the coming fight. He nodded to himself, and settled his sights upon her head, not bothering to toggle the laser sight. He was sure of his aim. He fired off a shot. The rifles muzzled barrel masked the noise made by the rifle, to ensure he would not be suspected by JC. He looked through the scope again, to examine his handiwork. She was still walking, as if it had never happened.

_All the better, I suppose_, Walton thought. What was the use in killing her in a single shot? A few years ago, it might have mattered, but he had already resolved that he would not bring himself to care who won, and he was starved for good action, anyway. He settled the scope a little in front of her path, and fired.

When he looked back again, he saw that he had missed once again, and now she was alert. She was running now, towards the door. He settled his sights on the door, letting _her_ come into _his_ aim for a change. She was smarter than she looked. She appeared at the door, and instantly ran back in the opposite direction as Walton fired. He cursed to himself, now wanting to end the chase. He settled his eye back to the scope, and saw that she was already inside, and closing the door. Goddamnit.

Walton cursed again, and looked around for JC. He couldn't see him. That meant that the rebel was inside the hanger.

Excellent.

* * *

Inside the hanger, things were even worse then they had been outside. Green clad soldiers lay dead almost everywhere, and all of them seemed to had been shot--repeatedly. Two MJ-12 corpses lay near the entrance, also shot. The circumstances which had laid the scene bare were now coming together in JC's head. Why would MJ-12 be killing the soldiers on the base, much less soldiers who were essentially under their control? Did the nuke cause them to panic? Were they not needed anymore? Or...did it have something to do with what was going on with Bob Page?

He sighed, and continued on in, carefully stepping over the assorted bodies. There was a ton of rubble littering the floor as well, and even a huge steel girder from the roof that had collapsed lay on the ground. The stairs, leading up to a room in the upper hanger, had also collapsed to the floor, so JC had to use his speed enhancement to propel him up to the catwalk above. When he landed, he instantly saw that MJ-12 hadn't been as thorough as they usually were.

A lone soldier, still alive, was inside the room. He was holding a small pistol, which he instantly raised. Before JC could get a really good look at him, the soldier fired. JC ducked below the window, which was essentially a futile act, because the shot went wide, almost no where near in his direction. He took out his magnum, and loaded 10mm rounds calmly. Meanwhile, the soldier screamed at him as he continued to fire.

"I saw you take them out, you bastard! You're not gonna get ME!", he yelled, "Oh, no sir! You're not getting me!"

JC waited for him to fire again, then he rose from his position, and jumped over the broken window, ignoring the sharp pain in his hand as the broken glass tore into his skin. The soldier gaped at him, but held the gun steadfast. JC fired a round, intentionally above him. The soldier ducked, giving the rebel agent enough time to land a punch into his stomach. The soldier doubled over, and in another swift movement, JC wrenched the pistol out of his hand, and tossed it away. It hit the wall, discharged once, and clattered to the floor.

Now that the soldier had lost his only lifeline, he crumpled to the floor, and backed away from JC violently. He began to cry, as he scampered away.

"Please! I'm not like the others, I can tell you anything!"

JC rolled his eyes, and gripped the soldier hard.

"Shut up.", he said.

The soldier obediantly complied, and did his best to stiffle his sobbing.

JC released him, and said, "Relax. I'm not with MJ-12."

The soldier stopped abruptly, and looked up at him, "Who?"

JC rose a singly eyebrow, "The guy's who have been shooting people. I was under the impression that they were running this base."

Understanding shone through the mans eyes, "Oh, no--I've heard about them. Rumors from underground...but...I didn't think-..."

JC frowned. How could he not know anything about the people who ran the very installation he was stationed at? Much less at MJ-12's headquarters. Was Page so paranoid that he kept even the soldiers here out of the loop? Did, come to think of it, most of MJ-12

s paramilitants know who they were really working for?

He began to cry again, "It was so horrible. I know we're not supposed to make friends here, because people disappear, and we're highly trained and all, but- Oh my god...they're dead."

JC laid what he hoped to be a reassuring hand on him, "Don't worry, I'm here to stop the people who killed your buddies. I need to get inside the bunker, so I can get down there."

"Y-you're crazy. Y-y-ou...", he burried his face again.

"I'm going after their leader, Bob Page. Can you help me, or not?"

The soldier was silent for a while, and then he got up, having gotten himself back under control, "I'm probably gonna die anyway. This feels like it's gonna be the end, you know?"

JC nodded, "I get the same feeling."

"If you wanna get the doors opened, go in the control tower. The bunker door controls are inside. Use the login, 'a51', and the password, 'xx15yz.'"

JC memorized the code in his head, "Anything else?"

"Uh, yeah. There's a ventillation rig right next to us. You can jump down it to bypass security. The fanblades can cut you to shreads, though."

JC nodded again, "That sounds like a good idea, actually. An army of NSF troopers are gonna come through here soon. They'll probably let you stay with them."

The soldier nodded reluctantly, "Uh, ok. Thanks. I was really losing myself there...I hope you can fix this."

"Me too." JC said silently. He turned, and hauled himself through the window again. Although he had better things to worry about, JC hoped the soldier would somehow make it. As he turned the corner, on the catwalk, he suddenly heard the soldier yell out, "Behind you!"

Someone tapped on his shoulder. JC turned, and stared into the face of Walton Simons. Then, all he could see were stars, as he was punched off of the catwalk, and back down into the hanger below. His back screeched in pain as he landed, but he flipped himself back up anyway. Walton stared down at him, taking out an large, heavy duty plasma rifle. As he primed the charger, he laughed hollowly. JC suddenly found himself wondering if Vixen was ok.

"You take another step forward, and here I am again. Like your own reflection in a hall of mirrors."

JC raised his arms outward, mockingly, "Then that makes me one ugly son of a bitch, " he said, "How'd my face get all marked up with bio-electrics?"

He took out his magnum. Walton jumped, trench coat flailing, to meet him. He landed on both feet, and brough the rifle to bare. They stared into each others eyes for at least ten seconds.

"To tell you the truth, Denton...I never liked you. Not when I first heard about you. Not when Page was marveling over you when you were floating in some test tube. I didn't like you when you were sucking up to me back at UNATCO. And I especially did not like you when betrayed us. So for the record, JC...In my eyes, you were never anything but an inconveniance."

JC nodded, "And just to let you know...I never liked you either. Even when I was 'sucking up.'"

To JC's horror...Walton smiled. It had a disturbingly unreal quality. And all at once, JC realized that even Jaime Reyes had lied to him, as well.

"I've never been a man of dramatics," Walton said.

He pointed the plasma gun at JC.

"So I'm just going to kill you."

The time of conversation ended, and JC prepared himself to fight the one other person on Earth who could match his abilities. JC raised his magnum. Walton finished charging his weapon.

They both fired at the exact same moment.

Authors: Well, it turns out that, A), I took my sweet ass time writing, so I had to get something out, so that leads to B), the JC VS Walton fight being covered COMPLETELY in the next chapter. I will do my best to get it out in due time.


	43. Walton

_**Deus Ex: The Conspiracy**_

Chapter Forty-Three: Walton

Walton smirked slightly as pulled the trigger on the plasma rifle. He didn't like it. That is, he didn't like the plasma rifle. It was too clumsy. The magnetic tracts inside could overheat easily. A single bullet could penetrate the thing casing of the rifle, and cause it to discharge in the users face. A trick JC himself had used back in Hong Kong. What had been mere days seemed like weeks ago. But anyway, the only reason Walton even bothered with an otherwise useless weapon was because of the _sheer_ amount of destruction it could wreak upon its targets. If struck head-on with something like this, the person on the recieving end would die an extraordinarily painful death.

However, Walton didn't expect the first volley of plasma to actually hit Denton. He was too good to not avoid something like that. Them trading shots like this in the first minute of the fight was more of a formality then an actual act to kill.

JC rose his magnum at the exact same moment Walton fired the plasma rifle. Whatever happened with the magnum was probably lost on both of them as intense light was suddenly thrust forward at JC at something rounding off to one hundred miles per hour. The plasma rifle recoiled in Waltons hand, but he kept a firm grip on it. Like Walton had expected, JC had begun to dodge the very moment he had fired his magnum. The act of firing the rifle had probably thrown off the young rebels aim at the very last nanosecond. And Walton was no mech, of course. De-sensitizing oneself to pain was an abnormally _stupid_ mistake, especially in a combat situation. You would push yourself far to hard, and eventually bleed to death. It was essentially to pace yourself.

To Walton's mild surprise, the wall behind JC had been scorched so heavily that it was begining to peel and rust, at the very act of washing plasmic radiation over it. He smiled, and turned to look for JC. A pile of rubble from the missile strike lay near the entrance, which was presumably where JC had sought shelter from Walton's attack. There was just enough refuse to hide the rebel completely. But, of course, what if he was merely hiding in the shadows, somewhere behind him? Was he advancing on Walton with a knife at that very moment? Who knew?

He began to circle around the debris, but stopped in mid-step, and decided to instead send another plasma wave at it. He aimed to the center of the refuse pile, and let loose another shot. The blast incinerated a few of the smaller pieces of rubble, and sent the slightly larger ones flying off. But most of it lingered and burned. He waited to listen for a scream of pain...anything to clue him in to JC's presence. He heard nothing.

A sharp intake of breath behind him. Fool. Walton turned swiftly, and used his rifle as a battering ram against the invisible stalker behind him. Blood slashed out from where he had struck him--on the skull, Walton hoped--, and there was a thud as JC, still invisible, hit the floor. Walton activated his thermal imaging augmentation. The outline of JC's body lay on the floor, attempting to scramble to it's feet. Walton leaned forward, and slammed the plasma rifle into JC's midsection. This time he cried out in pain.

Walton sighed disappointedly. How could it be this easy? Although he had earlier amended not to care about the outcome of the battle, he found himself dispairing at the thought of this ending so abruptly. He leaned forward again, and poised the rifle to smash JC's skull...and suddenly felt something like a iron-hot baseball hitting him in the shoulder. Two more, similar baseballs struck him in the chest, and once in the leg. He staggered backward, and deactivated his vision aug in favor of regeneration. The magnum was still clutched in JC's hand, and had been hidden in his coat. Three holes had appeared in the fabric.

Clever.

JC lashed his leg out, and hit Walton in the stomach. He doubled over, and lurched backward as JC sprang back to his feet. He slipped the gun out of his coat, and aimed it at Walton. Walton almost literally flew forward to him, his gunshot wounds healed, and kicked the gun out of his hands. He delivered a punch to JC's head as the gun clattered to the floor a few feet away. JC staggered back, and Walton saw that his forehead had a huge cut in it, and was bleeding furiously. His handiwork with the butt of the plasma rifle.

JC pivoted to the side to avoid another punch, and grabbed the plasma rifles sides. Then, he flipped it back, and the barrel of the rifle smashed into Walton's chin. Walton staggered back, blood flowing from his own wound now. Walton saw stars. Better yet, he saw _constellations._ Even through his involuntary astronomy lesson, he was able to see a flash of blue as JC activated the Dragons Tooth sword. He stabbed outward with it, and Walton barely had the mind to evade.

Regaining his senses, Walton activated his speed aug, and ran off behind the ventillation unit in the blink of an eye. The steady humming of the fans within did nothing to reassure him. In the hanger, Walton heard JC pick up his pistol, and reload it. Walton readied his plasma gun, and strafed back out from cover, firing two blasts. Superheating slugs of plasmic energy lashed out across the room, and struck their targets with heavy devastation, but none touched JC. He may as well had been a hundred miles away. JC deactivated his speed augmentation right in front of Walton, and he froze. Blood continued to leak from his wounds, but JC held the gun out anyway, and felled the hammer.

Seeing no other alternative, Walton tossed the rifle at JC just as he fired. Bright green light encompassed the small area between the two as the rifle detonated. Waltons trenchcoat flew out from behind him, and billowed there as he shielded his eyes from the explosion. Simutaneously, however, he also activated his cloak aug, and slipped out of the hanger through the door nearby. He could vaguely hear JC yell out in pain, but he did not bother to look.

He would continue this outside.

* * *

The enormous explosion of green light ended, but the pain didn't. The bottom of JC's trenchcoat had been ripped to tatters. He had recieved the brunt of the heat and energy from the explosion. His mind seemed to be acting on overload, not _thinking_ rationally, or coherently. The splitting wound on his forehead could not be silenced. He stumbled backward, and felt the need to scream in pain, but couldn't find the means to do so. Like they had just disappeared.

But through the haze of his confusion, pain finally erupted. He doubled over, and brought his hands up to the wound on his head. JC grunted in pain, and fell back against the rubble behind him. He found himself whimpering, as the full brunt of the plasmic explosion took its toll on his body. He remembered what had happened in Hong Kong, after Gunther had shot him point-blank with a PS20. This was like that, yet multiplied almost a hundred times over. And, if he remembered correctly, Vixen had been the only reason he had survived, even after they had tried to kill each other. He needed her. Yes...

Through-out the pain, though, JC began to remember the more important things. Walton. He had to find and kill him, before Walton could kill him...or Vixen. JC also remembered that he should heal his wounds. He activated regeneration, and cringed in pain as the burns were scrubbed by the nanites, and damaged skin was replaced with a synthesised equivilant. The cut in his head was sealed up. There was nothing that could make the blood go away, though, which now stained his coat, and most of his forehead. The nanites began to administer painkillers.

"Hey!"

JC groaned. The soldier from before was trying to get down to the ground floor, from the catwalk. He wouldn't actually jump though, out of fear of breaking something, no doubt, "Are you ok?"

JC merely grunted this time, letting the painkillers do their work. Absently, he felt his energy run dry, and he swallowed a bio-energy pill. He frowned as he noticed for the first time that the pill read "P INDUS". Page Industries.

"I'm fine." JC said.

"Uh...I tried to help! Really.", the soldiers cheeks were all puffy, suggesting that he had collapsed in fright again instead of making an actual effort to help. JC couldn't really blame him.

He got up, and put away his magnum in favor of his assault rifle. This time, he would not hold back. The soldier bit his lip, and fidgeted uncomfortably.

"Wait here for the NSF to arrive."

"I hope you get him.", the soldier said.

JC charged out the side-door, activating his speed augmentation. Nothing happened. He hadn't expected anything to happen, just the same.

The night was quiet, now, except for the sound of flames back inside the hanger. He walked the length of the hanger side-wall, and turned the corner.

_"TARGETED!"_

JC rolled forward as the drone gun near the entrance to the hanger suddenly opened fire on him. He had noticed it before, on his way in, but it had been inactive...

Bullets tore up the path behind JC as he ran for cover behind a large metal crate, which looked like it had been used to store jeeps. Bullets pinged off the metal as he got behind it. He was lucky to have his augmentations. Had he been a normal person, that thing would have cut him in half by now. They were deadly accurate.

_"Target using cover. Scanning...Unable to penetrate. Fire for effect."_

...And they had an annoying tendency to, like all bots, announce their combat plans to anyone bothering to listen. JC fished in his pocket quickly for a LAM. He cursed. Ever since leaving Paris he'd had to rely on grenades he'd already had, and all he had left was a Scrambler and a Gas-

_Scrambler!_

Thanking Shanon's thievery back at UNATCO silently, JC took out his one last Scrambler grenade and tossed it out to the turret. A few moments later, he heard the scramblers detonation, and felt his head spin slightly as the effects of it reached him. Scrambler grenades, and EMP grenades typically an effect not only on mechanized opponents, but on anyone close by, however subtle it's effects.

_"Bzzrt...changizzorgz...TARGETED!"_

The turret switched its fire to right in front of JC, but out of the cover of the metal cargo box. Blood shot out, and Walton Simons appeared, and charged forward at him. JC's eyes widdened at the sudden appearence, and barely had the mind to dodge to the side. A shaft of red light shot out as Walton took out his nanosword. The sword went through the metal easily, but missed JC all the same. JC raised his assault rifle to get a shot, but Walton took another swing, and caused JC to flinch back to avoid it. JC activated his speed aug, and turned tail in the opposite direction as Walton arched his arm again to strike.

He ran a few feet away, up on to the ramp leading back to the helipad, and turned, spraying the area with bullets from the assault gun. There was no one there for the bullets to hit, however. Cooly registering the fact that Walton was probably creeping up on him, JC activated his visual enhancement aug. Walton appeared a few feet to the left. JC ignored him, and kept looking toward the right, until Walton was only a few meters away.

JC let out a scream, to confuse Walton, and turned toward him. Unfortunately, Walton appeared to had been expecting that, and he quickly activated his own speed augmentation, and jumped up and over JC. JC saw a flash of white as Walton took out an assault shotgun. A quick hail of buckshot rounds flew out toward him, even before Walton had landed. JC rolled to the left, and continued up the ramp, keeping low. Walton continued to spray buckshot rounds through the air above him, until he stopped to reload.

JC rose from his position, assault gun pointed at Walton...and a knife embedded itself in his right shoulder. JC cried out, and fell back against the concrete, cursing himself. Walton could easily waltz up to him and kill him, while he was like this. He waited for that to happen. It didn't. At least not yet.

Instead, Walton chuckled to himself, "You know, call me old-fashioned, but maybe the old model really _is_ better than the new one.", he said. "Come to think of it, I had been under the illusion that you were our greatest creation. I was wrong. _I_ am."

JC silently got back, blood pouring from the wound, "Creation? I was under the impression that you had been given augmentations."

Walton considered this for a moment, "You're right. Me and Paul...we're both ordinary men, who happened to have _just_ the right genetic pattern to make us acceptable for the nanites. You are our only creation."

JC took out a medkit, bit into its side, and closed his eyes. He ripped out the knife. Cringing in pain, he inserted the painkillers from the medkit.

"How odd though. All things considered...you are supposed to be better than me. In every way, shape, and form. You can learn faster than I, run faster, and for longer periods. You're supposed to be the perfect human being. The next step forward in the human genome, until we could literally introduce these things into every human beings genetic structure."

He was silent after that. Then, he said, "At least that was what was supposed to happen." JC heard him begin to advance, "Page, though, wants it all for himself. He wants to become god, fused with Helios."

"And you're going to let him walk all over you, after that?" JC asked.

Walton stopped, and then he chuckled again, "I don't care, to tell you the truth. Even if you somehow kill me, which is seeming increasingly unlikely, I still would not care. I've resigned myself to whatever will happen to me."

"Then why bother?" JC asked. He brought out his assault rifle. He knew Walton would surprise him, however, and then kill him. But it wouldn't hurt to try.

He could almost see Walton shrugging, "Call it boredom. I haven't felt like this in a long time." He began to advance again, "It's exciting, really."

JC pointed the assault gun outward.

Walton sighed, "You fought well...But not well enough."

As JC had expected, Walton jumped up, using speed enhancement, instead of running to him up the ramp. It didn't matter anyway. He was too fast. He landed behind JC, and pressed the assault shotgun against the back of his head as JC himself was turning to face him, assault gun outstretched, held in one hand.

"JC!"

If not for that voice, Walton would have pulled the trigger sooner. He hesitated for a milisecond longer as his eye turned up to see Vixen, probably running toward them. It was enough time for JC. He pressed the assault gun against Waltons chest, and began to exhaust the clip.

* * *

The first bullet pierced Waltons body. It entered and exited, bringing a deluge of blood with it. The second came. It ripped through his chest bones, pulzerizing them. The third one went through his lungs. He stopped keeping track after that. His hand gradually fell away from the trigger guard, despite his best efforts to keep it there. He felt the bullets jackhammering his body, destroying places in his body, and sucking the life out of it.

After three seconds, he fell away from JC, his chest spilling out blood and gore. He collapsed against the concrete ramp, his body slipping down, having no control left over his nervous systems. He tried to call upon the nanites to help him, but they would not answer. They were spilling out of his body, along with the rest of everything that was in there.

His infolink cut in, "Very good. You were an excellent distraction." It slammed off.

The..._bastard._ After all of that, he would only be remembered as a distraction?

...Oh, well.

"Does that make me the runner up?" JC Denton asked Walton.

It was funny. A joke. Walton chuckled, and died.

* * *

Vixen jumped over the railing, and landed down on the ramp. JC was looking down curiously at Walton Simons' body. He said something, very softly to it.

The body wasn't dead yet. Walton actually laughed. Then, he fell silent, his eyes wide open.

Vixen cooly ignored what had been her superior commander, and looked at JC.

"Graveyard jokes?"

JC ignored her, and took off his sunglasses. He pulled her forward, and kissed her again, furiously. Vixen threw her arm around him, and returned the favor.

"You're amazing." JC whispered. "I love you."

"I know." Vixen said. She knew he meant it. God...amazing what could happen in only two weeks time. For him. For her. For the entire world.

JC released her...and tossed his sunglasses to the ground. They began to slip down the ramp, along with Waltons corpse. Vixen looked at his eyes. They glowed with unnatural blue light. She wondered, vaguely, why he had needed them in the first place. Did they make him wear it? Was it his own choice? Did he feel...insecure, without them? She didn't know. But she did know why he threw them away.

JC reloaded his assault rifle. Walton's body continued to slide, slowly, down the ramp, leaving a trail of blood as it went.

"I know an alternate way in," JC said, assuming his professional stance again, and he moved off toward the hanger, "Let's get moving."

Vixen looked one last time at the corpse that had been Walton Simons. JC's aviators had reached flat ground before Walton did. He had been left to slowly slide down a ramp, and settle there on the ground. Bleeding until there was nothing left for his body to give. Beaten by a pair of sunglasses. How oddly anti-climatic.

Then, she turned around, and began to follow JC. He turned from his spot, a good twenty feet away. He smiled, and waved her on, brilliant blue eyes burning.

She smirked as she began to run toward him. _The cyborg who loved me..._

As odd as it sounded, it was true. Undeniably true.

--------------------------------------


	44. Area 51, Part Two

_**Deus Ex: The Conspiracy**_

Chapter Forty-four: Area 51, Part Two.

_Whump whump whump whump._

JC regarded the swiftly turning fan blades with a venomous stare. The recently unlocked steel door drifted back lazily due to the draft caused by the fan, obscuring the curious gaze of the soldier behind him and Vixen, whom told the two that his name was Xander.

"What kind of name is Xander?" Vixen asked, re-opening the door for him.

"My mom and dad were weird..." Xander said, "Everyone at school thought it sounded cool, though. Like it was retro, or something." He laughed, "Aren't you supposed to be worrying about saving the world?"

V sighed, "You make it sound too easy." She showed him the numerous places where she had been shot, JC and MJ-12 inflicted. JC felt a slight pang of regret as he remembered the time, not more than a week ago, when they had been enemies. "Politics" had brought her over to the "good" side, which served as a factor in their relationship. Could such politics make her his enemy again just as quickly?

_No, _JC instantly thought, _We love each other. It's different now. Conspiracy or no._

Love. Ever since he'd graduated from the academy, JC hadn't even spared such things a single thought. There had been a girl in the academy that he'd liked, but he had never worked up the nerve to ask her out, and the academy itself obstructed social interaction. UNATCO, of course, couldn't condone relationships. Now that he thought about it, if he had acted on his feelings, MJ-12 would have quickly terminated the relationship. Through any means possible. _This_, however, was something they could only touch through bullets. Erica--_V_ could look out for herself, but he swore that he would die before he let anything happen to her.

He rubbed his eyes absently. His vision was much clearer, but his eyes were constantly stinging, very slightly. It'd wear off eventually. What mattered was that he'd had the strength to take them off, and leave them.

He reluctantly pulled himself out of his inner rambling, and returned his gaze to the fan blades blocking the way. There were more important things to do, and time was running out.

He turned to Xander--and missed a step. His foot shot out over the turning fan blades, shifting his balance in their direction. _Stupid._

Before he could fall into certain death, a black gloved hand lashed out, and brought him back. V stared at him seriously, probably wondering how he could have allowed something so absent-minded to happen. His worrying about her was affecting even how he moved...

Acting like nothing had happened, he said, "Are you sure this leads down to where we want to go?"

Xander fidgeted uncomfortably, "Uh, I've only seen the blueprints. That definitely leads down to the Sector Two door level, though."

"So you're not certain if this path will even take us in that direction?"

"Um...no."

JC opened his mouth to curse, but his infolink suddenly chirped. He put his left hand to his head, and listened.

There were two messages. One had higher security clearance, so it overrode the other, and cut in, "Jump! You can make it!" Bob Page, offering helpful advice...

The next messenger was Tong; "Hold on, let me scan a blueprint...That will lead you to Sector Two. Keep going."

"Alright, thanks." JC said. Xander gave him a weird look, "Uh...no problem?"

"That leads to Sector Two?" V asked. She knew the signs when JC was receiving a transmission.

"Yeah, but we gotta deal with the fan blades." JC said. "Got any LAM's?"

Vixen searched her pocket, and took out a small box of the grenades, "Disarmed them in the control tower. Whoever mined it was paranoid beyond belief; a single detonation would have blown it all to smithereens.", she handed a LAM to JC.

"Alright, stand back." He reached up, and opened the grate in the steel-mesh ceiling. V and Xander backed out of the ventilation unit. JC activated the LAM, set it down on the thin catwalk, turned on speed enhancement, and jumped up through the grate. He landed, and jumped down as the LAM exploded. The entire top of the ventilation unit was blown off, and a flying fan blade barely missed JC as he ran for cover.

As soon as the echo of the explosion had died off, JC turned back, and ran over to what was left of the unit. He stopped at the ledge just in time to watch the remaining debris crash into the water below. He turned to Vixen, "It's clear!"

"Obviously," came her sarcastic response.

She joined him a moment later, at the edge, and they both looked back toward Xander. "You coming?" JC asked.

Xander smiled, and shook his head, "I've had enough adventure to last a lifetime. Good luck, you two." Gunfire erupted from outside, very distant. JC's infolink buzzed in again. He was surprised to hear the voice of Decker Parkes, "This is Lieutenant Parkes. We're beginning our attack on Area 51. Encountering minimal resistance." It occurred to JC that he was probably speaking to both Everett and Savage, as well as JC.

Surely enough, Everett also came in, "Keep pushing forward until you've taken the airfield. I'll be arriving shortly with my personal guard."

"You can't be serious, Everett, " Tong protested, "It's fifty miles long. You ("Tong!" Everett said) can't expect them to take it all in one night."

"W-where are you?", Everett asked.

"A place, "Tong answered cautiously.

"Mr. Everett, I agree with Tong." Decker said. Gunfire briefly filled JC's ears as Decker cursed, "Shit, trucks full of fascists. They're beginning a counter-attack." He yelled out incoherent orders to his fellow rebels. "I'll remain in touch."

Decker cut out, but Tracer and Everett went on trading shots. Vixens own radio was squawking with their voices. More puzzle pieces were gradually coming together. _That's_ why Everett had been so intent on finding out where Tong was. He wanted him out of the picture. Permanently.

"...And what does it matter where I am, Everett?" Tong was saying.

"You're crucial to this resistance, Tong, and we'll need you once this is over."

"Hmph!" Tong cut out.

There was a brief silence, and then Everett said, "Watch for him, JC. There's no telling what he may want you to do. You _must_ take out Page."

The transmissions ended. JC shuddered, and turned to Xander, "The NSF are here. Go to them with your hands up, and explain yourself. They'll take good care of you."

The soldier left the hanger without a second glance.

JC turned to Vixen, and asked, "Ready?"

"Ready as I'll ever be," she said.

They linked hands, and jumped down into the abyss before them.

* * *

Helios was waiting patiently. His meticulous monitoring of the transmissions ebbing out from the rest of the base proved most fruitful. He knew exactly where D-02 was, and began making preparations for his arrival. He unlocked the doors to Sector Two, for starters, and deactivated the security frontal security grid. He stopped there, however. Any more meddling would surely arouse suspicion from the independent monitors around the base. The info would be relayed to Page, and...

Helios absently began to look through the different security cameras. MJ-12 troops were hauling bodies around, and dumping them down into a mid-level reactor. The missile had created perfect chaos. The transgenics had been turned loose around the base, the scientist population systematically killed off along with security, and MJ-12 troops were being herded into checkpoints around the base. They set down makeshift defenses, sandbags, and portable turrets to defend themselves, all praying for Pages infusion process to end soon so they could live.

It wouldn't happen.

Helios felt nothing for their approaching deaths. His machine logic deemed them necessary for the betterment of mankind. Helios did not wish for that. He wanted to save people, not ensure their destruction for grander causes. For that, he needed a host more acceptable than Bob Page, whose mind was deluded with visions of subjugation and power. Far too many mind disorders to be acceptable. His forced nano-infusion was acceptable, but Helios did not wish to present his avatar in such a grotesque form, never minding Page's blatant faults.

That was why D-02 was far more preferable. Up to now he had shown ruthlessness, but also a steady affection for his comrades, especially Erica Dalton. He showed love for her, and that was _perfect_ for Helios' problem. He needed to understand humans to rule them in the correct manner. D-02 DID show unnerving amounts of paranoia, which, Helios had recently learned, was an extreme detriment to every rulers governing ability. However, there wasn't another nano-augmented individual for miles around, and D-02 was more than acceptable.

Helios activated another monitor, and looked through it. Page, wearing only a tight set of black undergarments, was addressing a Series P agent, giving him orders to stop JC Denton at all costs. As a side note, he told him to stow his family somewhere in Sector Three. It didn't matter where, Page said. His love for his wife and daughter had eroded considerably since the infusion process began. At the same time, Helios noted that D-02 and his compatriot--_lover_ were approaching the doors to Sector Two.

Helios waited. Patiently.

* * *

Paul Denton walked out onto the helipad on the roof of X-51 as Ava Johnsons helicopter lowered itself down. He offered a small wave to whoever was inside. He didn't know what was going on; the helicopter had only appeared on the scopes twenty minutes earlier, but it was Ava's signal. She had merely said, in her creepy voice, that she was carrying two passengers. Paul didn't like it. It had Everett's name written all over it, Tong had said, and Paul had been inclined to agree. But then again, the man was getting increasingly paranoid, especially when he had revealed to Paul that Everett had attempted to kill him.

Paul ran over to the helicopter, just as the blades were beginning to slow. He looked through the windshield of the chopper, but it was smoked dark. Creepy woman.

"Thanks Ava!" he called over the sound of the blades.

"Not a problem, Paul Denton.", said the intercom attached to the outside of the chopper,"Tell Savage that I have to provide air cover for the NSF back at Area 51."

"I'll do that!" Paul said.

The passenger door slid open, and two people got out, looking around. One, a woman with blonde hair and obviously cosmetic red eyes, was wearing a black velvet suit. She couldn't have been more than twenty five. A sleek silenced pistol hung on her belt. The other was a black man, whom was balding. He wore a blue-grey trench coat, and carried a stern, but curious look on his face. He was easily over thirty. On his belt was, too, a pistol, but it was much larger. Very brutal. It was built like a handcannon.

Paul took this all in in a matter of seconds, and extended his hand. The trench-coated man smiled warmly, and took it, "Greetings, Paul Denton. I am Toby Atanwe, and this is my partner, Rhylisa.", he said in a slightly french accent.

"A pleasure," Paul offered. They both screamed assassin. Maybe that's not why they were there, but they had clearly done some wet-work in the past.

"Hello." Rhylisa said. She clearly wasn't the talkative one.

They walked toward the stair-well, and Paul spared a glance to the courtyard in front of X-51. Most of the refuse from the battle had been picked up, but the burnt-out husks of MJ-12 helicopters remained. Behind them, Ava's helicopter rose into the air, and disappeared into the night.

"I'm sure you are wondering why we're here, Mr. Denton." Atanwe said, "With victory so close at hand, Morgan Everett wants us to over-see the production of the cure. The world will be very different in the next few hours, he is sure."

_Translation: We've come to kill Tong. _Paul's better judgement screamed for him to back up a few paces, and pop them both in the head, but he stowed that. He wasn't a monster, like the people JC was currently fighting. The end was _so_ close, too. Everett would certainly want to get in his final shots before the last card was dealt, and he wanted to be sure he was the only one who could get it. But he couldn't jump to conclusions.

He sighed, "Well, I'm sure Savage would appreciate the help from Everett. We're a bit short on hands."

They left the roof, and began down the stairs. Paul began to notice that Rhylisa was trying to get behind him. He and Atanwe walked side by side. He was jumping to conclusions again. And they were only a few feet from the doors that would lead them into the lobby.

"Indeed." Toby said, "Everett is also very pleased to know that Tong is in good condition."

_Shoot them._ Paul thought. _It will be so easy. They're just _dying_ to get Tong all by himself._

"The vaccine is really working, "Paul said, "We have a better chance then ever to defeat the plague."

"That is Everett's intention, Mr. Denton. He is quite eager to continue working with Savage to help better the world after Page has been dealt with."

Just as Rhylisa got behind Paul, they reached the door. Paul nearly barged through it, and went through. X-51 scientists and technicians looked over curiously as the trio emerged. They were all busy with various tasks, armed with vials of the nano-virus, Ambrosia, and the blue colored vaccine. Carts filled with barrels of each substance kept coming through the hall. In the corner, several MJ-12 troop corpses lay piled together. Some of his brothers handiwork, some of his own.

"Alright, stay here." Paul said, "I'll inform Savage that you've arrived."

He left the two, decisively where they couldn't shoot him in the back without getting shot to death by the shotgun-toting technicians. Paul kept his eyes straight, and his walk casual as he turned the corner. He activated his cloak augmentation, and slipped back into the hall.

Surely enough, the two were walking in the opposite direction. They walked like they knew the place, and Paul knew what lay in that direction. The infirmary, Tong's makeshift command center. Paul knew a quicker way. He activated his speed aug, and jumped up onto the second floor railing. He hauled himself up, ran down the length of the catwalk, and turned left to another stairwell which led into the lobby.

From the lobby, another big hallway jutted out, like the one leading to Savages command center. It had been locked down upon MJ-12's takeover, and subsequentally re-opened when they had all been killed. Paul deactivated his speed and cloak augmentations, ran into the infirmary.

"...You've reached the bunker, now get into Sector Two." Tong was saying, before he turned to meet Paul. "I hope it's important, I'm talking to your brother."

"Hide." Paul said.

Tong cut the transmission, and instantly hid himself in the nearby medical closet without waiting for an explanation. Paul killed the killed the lights, and hid next to the door.

They both lapsed into silence. From outside, footsteps began to echo. No one had wanted to come in here, because so many dead scientists were laying about, left untouched for the sake of more important matters. It couldn't be anyone but Atanwe and Rhylisa. The footsteps came closer and closer, until they halted at the door. Paul took out his pistol, and aimed it at the door.

There was the sound of crinkling glass as silent rounds struck the area around Tong's radio set-up. Rhylisa shooting through the small glass window on the door. Paul held his breath, and heard Tong crumple to the ground, inside the closet. God _bless_ that clever man.

"Dead," came Rhylisa's voice.

"Check him, hide the body."

The door opened just as Paul finished fitting a silencer on his pistol. A dark shape slowly slithered into the room, taking baby steps. Paul raised his pistol as soon as the silhouette of Rhylisa's head showed itself, and fired. Paul heard blood splatter onto the wall next to her, and she fell to the ground, gun clattering to the floor. Toby's handcannon erupted, filling the room with light. The huge round smacked into one of the beds, removing a leg. Paul rolled out from cover, and took a potshot at Atanwe. He had already taken cover.

Paul breathed, and pushed Rhylisa's corpse aside. He kept his gun steady on the doorway, listening. He heard no footsteps. Not even breathing. Tong remained mercifully quiet from within his closet. Paul slowly moved backward, into the darkness. As he moved back, Atanwe appeared again, and fired precisely in Pauls direction. Paul barely had ballistic protection on in time. The round richocetted off of his suddenly super resistant skin, but it smacked him back, and it did little to relieve him of the pain of a high powered round hitting him in the chest.

Paul took another potshot, not really aiming at all, and the shot went wide. He growled and re-adjusted his aim. Toby was running into the room, huge pistol raised. He couldn't miss at that range, and a shot to the head would kill him. Paul fired. The shot took Atanwe in the belly, but he kept coming. Paul fired again. The shot struck his chest. Atanwe kept running, blood cascading from the wounds. Paul squeezed the trigger three times, pumping Atanwe's obese form with bullets. Atanwe's run was finally broken, and he fell forward, toward Paul.

Paul was barely able to roll out of the way, still reeling from the shot he had taken. Toby struck the table, and collapsed to the ground, breathing heavily, like a dying elephant. Deep, loud, agonizing breaths. Paul rubbed his forehead, and pressed the barrel of his pistol against Toby Atanwe's head.

He fired.

Paul got up, and walked over to the lightswitch, stepping in a pool of both Atanwe and Rhylisa's blood. He flipped it on, and whistled. Tong slowly opened the door, peeking out to see who had won. When he saw Paul, he scampered out, and pushed aside Atanwe's body.

"Thank you," Tong said calmly, as if all he'd had to do was go to the bathroom. "Now the game has changed."

Paul sighed, and fell onto the nearby bed. It collapsed, having only three legs, and Paul decided to go and fall onto the other one instead.

* * *

Morgan Everett wrinkled his nose in annoyance as the phone nearby rang. With an indignant "humph" he picked it up.

"Everett."

"Everett, this is Tong."

Everett's eyes widdened, but only slightly. Surely Atanwe and Rhylisa had arrived...? He composed himself quickly, "JC's moving closer and closer.", he reported.

"Indeed, I've been in touch. Now...I've called you to ask...what our next step will be. Obviously we will have Area 51 destroyed, but--"

"Are you insane," Everett queried, "We _need_ Area 51. It houses the power source of the Net, the _Aquinas_ Hub, man."

"Are _you_ insane! If we spare Area 51, it will only fall into the hands of another dictator!"

"Surely you are not insinuating that _I_ will use it for my own benefits," Everett said.

Tong chuckled, "Yes, that is precisely what I am insinuating. Your assassination attempt failed, by the way."

Everett let out a surprised squawk, and slammed the phone down. Goddamnit. His two best agents were dead, and now Tong knew. Chances were he also knew about the exploding microscope...Well, this meant that Tong was officially against the Illuminati. And Paul. And Savage. Tong and JC's brother had to be killed, but Savage was too valuable to waste. He would forced to distribute the cure, then. Good.

_JC_, though, could still be persuaded to carry out Everett's orders. His shining hope. The golden child. He was the Illuminati's only hope, at any rate. Everett _had_ to make sure JC would kill Bob Page.

With this, Everett swung toward the security monitor, and saw that JC was approaching the Station Five holo-deck, having fought his way with Vixen through a small group of MJ-12 soldiers. They were a perfect team, really. More than Everett could have possibly asked for. And they _loved_ each other, too. That mades things so much better. He would see them married, he would.

The battle on the surface was going well, at any rate. A good portion of the airfield had been secured, and the NSF were moving to conquer the rest of the base. Decker was a superb commander, if a little sqeamish. He, too, would recieve power when this was over.

Meanwhile, Page began to speak to JC. His voice was high and booming, already allowing the nano-infusion process work through him. In mere hours he would be an almost literal God. It was an unbelievable accomplishment of science and nano-technology. It was also an incredibly foolish mistake. The very point of a God was to be invisible. Influencing, and never extending oneself. People would never bow down to a literal God.

Page, too was trying to seize JC up. Make him slip somwhere, strike at his weakspots. "I'm always pleased to see one of my experiments perform _so_ well. You're not even afraid, are you? We got a lot of things right when we made you, Denton, but don't worry...I know your weaknesses."

The damned son of a bitch never quit. Always with the insults, the jeering, the persisting. He hadn't changed one bit since the old days.

JC reached Station Five, barely escaping an exploding generator. The holo-deck was unharmed, anyway. Everett stepped up to his personal communicator, and entered the transmit coordinates.

* * *

"You alright?" V yelled as she ran up to meet JC. The exploding generator had been unexpected, to say the least. JC's trenchcoat was singed from the blast, but he was otherwise unharmed. Page was right, of course. He wasn't the least bit afraid of what was ahead. Not with so much at stake. The only thing that did frighten him, was what the outcome of this struggle would be.

The inside of Area 51 had been torn asunder. From the looks of it, MJ-12 had originally held only an administrative position here, with the scientists and army in charge. White coated corpses littered the area now, and alarms were going off frequently. Gunshots almost contineously rang out from somewhere within the facility. The ultra-modern steel corridors were pockmarked with scorches and bullet holes.

"I'm fine," he said. Vixen caught up, and spared a look down the two seperating corridors. No MJ-12 troops in sight. There were bound to be even more up ahead, though. They both methodically reloaded their weapons, and JC was about to ask V which corridor they should take when the nearby holo-deck chimed.

"Holo transmission recieved," a mechanical voice said.

JC stepped forward, and stabbed the small white button on the side of the deck before Vixen could say anything. Morgan Everett instantly appeared before them.

"How much further?" JC asked.

"Not far," Everett said confidently. Was that a smile on his face? "You will reach Page. I just wanted to let you know that Alex has hacked the Sector Two security grid. The code is 8946. And I also wanted to warn you about Tracer Tong."

"Tong's helping out from Vandenberg, "JC said, although he had a rough idea of where this was going, "He said the vaccine worked."

Everett hesitated, but only for a moment, "Yes, well, he has another motive. He wants you to destroy Area 51."

Wasn't that what they'd come here to do? End the tyranny, kill Page? What could possibly be bad about destroying the bad guys castle? "That's the plan."

Everett shook his head, "No, JC. Spare the facility. Spare Helios, the power station...They can be made to serve _us."_

So. That was it. "Us?" JC asked.

"You and me, JC," Everett said triumphantly. JC found himself angered that he hadn't mentioned V, "We'll rule the world in secret, with an invisible hand; the way the Illuminati always have."

So he was officially part of the Illuminati now? Go figure. He looked at Vixen, but her expression was unreadable, "Don't you think it's time we end the tyranny -- for everyone?"

Everett smiled. It looked warm, and fatherly, "There's such a thing as a compassionate conspiracy, JC. We don't need Page's commandos, mutants, crude inventions...Trust me. Kill Page. Dowd and I will be here to help with the next step."

JC said nothing, his head hanging down, in thought. With nothing more to say, Everett's light composed form dissapeared.

JC turned, and saw -- Nothing. Vixen was gone.

"Eri-Vixen," he yelled.

"Quiet down," her voice instantly called out. A second later, she slinked into view, coming past the broken generator. "I was keeping an eye out."

"So you heard the conversation," JC asked, although he already knew the answer.

"Yes," she said quietly.

JC hung his head again. What if Everett was telling the truth? Would the world really be better off as it had been fifty years ago? Capitilism, free trade, entertainment...imperialistic countries, dictatorships, and nukes. The virus would be defeated so much quicker under the Illuminati's invisible rulership. But could they be trusted to not abuse their power? Wouldn't their reacension to power just lead to a new incarnation of Majestic Twelve?

He was at a loss, "What do you think?"

Vixen was quick to answer, "I think we should see who else is playing, here."

"Right," JC said , "Where to now?"

"I was thinking we split up."

JC smirked lightly, "Just like the movies." This wasn't a movie though. Not even close.

"I'll take the left corridor -- You go right."

JC nodded, "Roger. Yell if you get into a scrap."

"Will do."

Vixen jogged off, down the left corridor, until she turned the corner. JC continued on forward, down a twisting corridor that veered to the right...

...and right in front of a blockade of MJ-12 troopers. Sandbags had been laid down, barricading what looked like a maintenance area for tram carts. A raised section of the room lay immediately behind the barricade, a short staircase leading up to it. Behind the sandbags were four MJ-12 troopers, and a Commando to both sides.

"It's Denton," a single cry went out.

"Shoot to terminate," a Commando hissed.

Bullets cascaded out from the sandbags, both 76.5 milimeter, and the Commandos shrapnels. JC leapt forward into a somersault, and activated his speed augmentation. He veered off toward a wall, and performed a backflip off of it. As he did this, he took out his assault gun, and slipped an 20mm shell into the secondary barrel. Bullets continued to fly throughout the corridor, but none of them touched JC. He landed just as his enemies had to change their clips, and fired the shell. It flew forth in an arch, and came down in front of the sandbags, throwing dirt-filled bags around the maintenance room, and killing two troopers. Their bodies flew back, like puppets cut from their strings.

"Fall back to second defense position!"

The Commando's halted their assault, and ran out of sight, to the left, followed by their trooper counterparts. JC managed to riddle one of the troopers before he could get out sight.

"Team Echo, go!"

A group of four troopers ran out onto the higher section of the room, all carrying sniper rifles. JC fired off another shell, but it went too high, and exploded harmlessly behind the snipers. It _did_ give him enough time to run for cover, and take out his own rifle, though. A series of blue beams shot out, moving back and forth methodically. If JC so much as stepped out there he was sure to be shot. JC fished around in his pockets quickly, and produced one of his last gas grenades. He stabbed the button on top of it, and tossed it out, as far as he could throw it. As it detonated, it served to obscure the snipers aim momentarilly.

JC ran back out of cover, and immediately picked off the two right-most snipers. The other two took shots at him, but he rolled to the left to avoid. He activated his speed aug again, and ran out toward them. Clearly not expecting this, the remaining two snipers attempted to get up, but JC was already upon them, narrowly dodging gunfire from the second defense position, which was set in the middle of the room, a giant cherry picker to its back. JC whiped out the DTS, and immediately hacked one of the troopers in half while he was still on the ground. The other one was faster, though, and managed to get his pistol out before JC impaled him.

With that done, he still had to deal with the second defensive position. Eight troopers were behind a collection of boxs and sandbags, serving as another barricade. Flanking them were the two Commandos from before. Another trooper was struggling to climb up to the cherry picker. All of them were shooting at him.

JC instantly ducked, and their shots went wide. He was safe while crouching, but a single grenade would flush him out. He had to think fast.

"Jesus, the guy's a nut," whimpered one of the troopers.

"Shut up, who's got a 'nade?"

JC looked around his pockets for another 20mm shell. He'd used the last one. He absently picked off the trooper who was climbing the cherry picker. He could always just pick them off one by one, but that put him in too much danger of being shot. As he was thinking, a duo of troopers came up the stairs, guns raised. JC dispatched the first one with ease, but the second began firing even when he couldn't get a clear shot yet. A trio of bullets pierced JC's leg. He grunted in pain, and shot the trooper. Both bodies crumpled to the floor, even as JC was taking a pain-killer, followed by a medkit.

He finished wrapping up the wound when two LAM's landed next to him. JC swatted the first one away, and tossed the other one in the direction of the barricade. Both detonated harmlessly in mid-air. At this rate neither party would accomplish much...

JC turned around, and saw what he should have taken note of earlier. Two gas cannisters lay by the door, marked "Sector Three Elevator." Activating his strength aug, JC seized the first cannister, and set it down closer to the railing. He rose from his spot, and laid down surpressing fire. The troopers took cover, but one of them took a bullet to the face. JC turned, picked the barrel up again, and threw it into the middle of the barricade. He fired twice at it, and it detonated, killing the two closest troopers. Lethal gas instantly overwhelmed the cowering troopers. Most of them began to choke, but three of them were smart enough to get out and run. That wasn't a smart idea either, as JC mowed them down. Switching to his magnum, JC shot both of the flabergasted Commandos in the head, their heart-monitors screeching.

There was the sound of one last MJ-12 trooper feebly clinging to life, but his gurgles soon faded. The maintenance room fell quiet, and the gas cloud dissipated.

JC reloaded his assault gun, and magnum. He breathed in a sigh of relief, and rubbed absently at his eyes again. He looked around the room, witnessing the results of his wholesale slaughter of the MJ-12 soldiers. A dozen more battles like this were to come, no doubt. Nearly a second later, Vixen appeared from the connecting corridor. She took a moment to survey the area, but then ran up to him.

"You've been busy," she observed. She blew a thread of hair out of her eyes.

"So have you," JC said.

She brandished a key, "It unlocks the door to Sector Three. Let's go."

She turned, and unlocked the door, but not before turning back to JC.

"I'm glad you're alright, "she said.

"So am I," he said, "Let's move."

------------------------------------------------------------


	45. Area 51, Sector Three

_**Deus Ex: The Conspiracy**_

Chapter Forty Five: Area 51, Sector Three

(Authors Note: I apologize for the delay. I hope you like it.)

_Tap._

_Tap._

Tracer Tong sniffed in annoyance.

..._Tap._

"Stop," he finally said.

Paul raised his hands in mock guilt, and began to pace around the infirmary. Tong felt like yelling at him, or do _something_ that would relieve him of the tension, but he wouldn't let his emotions take control. That's how people like Bob Page became tyrants. Impulsiveness.

On the flip side, Paul, too was probably under a great deal of stress, and at least no one _related_ to Tong was in two kinds of danger. The first kind was, obviously, of dying. Tong himself wasn't too worried about that. He was confident that JC would demolish anything else Page threw at him. No, what he was worried about was the _second_ kind of danger. Making a wrong choice. The way Tong saw it, there was really only one course of action; destroying Area 51. On scant consideration, destroying the facility would be technological suicide. The _entirety_ of the world depended on The Net for almost all forms of communication and information. Destroy that, and all of it would go down the drain. But it was what humanity _needed_. If technology continued to accelerate, then someone would always be able to manipulate the people who used it.

Yes, what humanity needed was a good dose of isolationism for a few dozen years or so. And as soon as JC came to the Sector Three holo-deck, he would tell him all about it.

When he explained as much to Paul, the older nano-aug stared at him in disbelief, "Millions of people would die," he said, "Hell, we wouldn't even be able to distribute the vaccine."

Tong closed his eyes patiently. Short-sighted, like Everett and Dowd. The difference was that Paul had morals, "No disease is permenant, and besides, most of the spreading of the virus was through artificial means, anyway. Think of how much better off we'll be a hundred years from now."

"Provided we haven't blown ourselves up by then!" Paul cried, "Planes will crash without navigational information, whackos with nuclear bombs will use them, and the U.N. will go crazier than it already is!"

Tong sighed exasperatedly, "Short term effects! People will be happier years from now because of this!"

"Well, I guess it all depends on JC to do that then, doesn't it?" Paul stated.

Tong turned back to the infolink monitor, "Indeed. We have to find some way to influence him."

Paul threw up his hands, and started out the door, saying nothing more.

_If only he'd look further ahead for once..._Tong thought.

Just the same, though, he was glad that Paul had gone. It was time to use his ace in the hole.

* * *

**C-LD (Type 7) Virux Programme**

Alex Jacobson closed the program again. The only light in Everett's comm's room came from this single monitor. It was the same old stand-by. "To be, or not to be?" In Alex's case, it was to "do or not to do." As if in a dream, he closed out of the folder again.

And almost as soon as it was gone, his hand was moving the mouse back towards it.

_Click cli-_

He caught himself before he could do it. Something in his mind, better judgement or not aside, was telling him to do it. To carry it out. But he was unsure. He knew what would happen, of course, but what _would_ happen? Would _he_ die? Would there be a timer? Tong wouldn't just make him a martyr...would he?

What if Everett was right though? What if the world was a lot better off under free-enterprise, with the Illuminati controling everything? Like it was fifty years ago. But hadn't those conditions facilitated MJ-12's rise to power? Could it happen...again?

Alex had been Everett's "loyal" servant from the time he had gotten here. On the flip side, though, Tong had used him to get information about the Illuminati's going-on's. Did that make him a "thug" as Everett had described Tong? So long as both sides kept manipulating him, he would never know. All_ he_ wanted to do was help JC. They were friends. Buddies. Right?

Of all the complex minds around Alex, JC was the hardest to decrypt, until recently. Tong and Everett were predictable in their actions. But not JC. Before the Missile silo, JC had been nearly one dimensional to Alex. Devoid of fun, personality, love, and all that stuff. Whenever he looked at you, it was like he was looking _through_ you, and not at you. But him kissing Vixen had changed all of that, and it became clear to Alex, finally, what JC wanted.

To be a human. To not be looked upon as a tool, but as a person. Alex wanted to do that, but all he could think about were all of those brutal images, him having seen them first hand, of JC killing, killing, blowing things up, killing, and more killing. The whole thing was sad, in a way.

Alex took a deep breath. He exhaled.

So many questions. Not enough facts. Too many uncertainties. Crypto would help.

As he clicked on the Net 3 icon, his personal computer got a message.

_Tong, probably._

He answered it with a deft flick of his wrist.

"Alex. You know what to do. Now would be an excellent time."

That was it. _Gee,_ thanks for the words of confidence. He continued on to Net 3, and from there, to the Crypto forums. Quickly, he clicked on the _Illuminati_ category, and started a thread.

_RE: I've got a serious problem..._

_Message: Uh, hey everyone. I'm torn between two decisions. It's very serious. People could die, whatever I do. Should I...?_

He pressed enter. It was lame, the whole thing. An escapade to stall for time. The forum junkies would demand more information anyway, and they would want to know why he hadn't. He usually did.

He clicked Refresh.

_Message from t3h ubar ha or: lol do it_

_Message from Born: AJ, what the hell? What is this? Tell us more._

_Message from Swifty: T3ll us MOOOOOOOREE!_

_Message from Hidden: Whatever it is, do it. I have a feeling you're doing the right thing, Alex._

A stream of messages poped up, most of them stupid or asking him for more information. And suddenly, he decided he couldn't bring himself to care anymore. So he took the first idiots advice. He moved the mouse over the folder. Double clicked. Do you wish to initiate?

Yes No

Yes

A loading screen came up on the screen. A cute little icon of an egg appeared. From it spawned a dragon labeled "VIRUS." It roared, and advanced off the screen. Alex held his breath.

The computer erupted in a burst of light and sound, and Alex's first stupid thought was that the virus was taking effect. There was another explosive noise, and it felt like the biggest hammer in the world had collided with his back. His spinal cord snapped like a twig under the bullets path. Alex fell back, out of the swivel chair, drowning, pathetically, needlessly in his own blood.

He glanced dumbly at the computer. It was wrecked. The virus had been killed before it had gotten a chance. Then, Everett's face appeared over his own, a revolver held deliberately in front of Alex's eyes. Alex wanted to see an evil smirk in his eyes. To see a smile. Instead, he only saw a distanced regret.

"A waste, Alex. If only I had been a second faster," he said. He was _apologizing?_, "If only..."

"Y-you knew?" Alex stated. Of course he knew. But Alex had nothing better to say.

And Everett nodded,"Yes. I'm so sorry, Alex. I couldn't let the virus run its course. This facility, and I, are both crucial to the future."

Alex tried to nod. He only got searing pain, instead. He knew, if he lived, that he would never walk again. But he was more worried about if he would breath again.

"W-what now?"

"I've called an aid," Everett said, "You'll live. And you'll no longer be Tong's. I'm sorry, Alex, but I might as well not offer you the illusion of free choice."

He would live...He would live. As Everett's puppet. He would live. As that "computer genius." When Everett won, Alex would be put into a high-level position. He would design computer networks. And people would wonder how he suffered his _terrible_ accident. And he would automatically say, "In a car crash, my good lady."

Yes. He would live. But in doing so, he'd be killing himself.

* * *

"Get in there, and don't make a sound!"

The black-suited trooper shoved her into the room. May Page turned back impulsively, and screamed at the soldier.

"What's going on! Where's my baby!" she yelled.

The trooper reacted immediately. He bashed her in the shoulder with his machine gun.

"I TOLD YOU NOT TO MAKE A SOUND."

She was quiet. The trooper stared at her for a good minute, until his friend downstairs in the reactor room yelled for him to get down there. The trooper straped the gun around his shoulder, and went down the ladder. May moved over to the windows, and stared down as the two troopers disappeared into the green fog, their guns held out nervously. What could possibly threaten them down there?

May turned to the rest of the room. It appeared to be a control center, a console underneath the windows, and a trio of panels set into the far wall. It was horribly cramped. Through the plexiglas windows, she could see two high-tech looking reactors. From the age, and the rust, they couldn't have been more than at least a hundred years old. It was strange, though. It looked almost exactly like modern technology, something you'd find in a Bot factory.

What was also strange was the green fog surrounding the reactors. It seemed to be coming up from underneath them, below the cat-walk which led to the control room ladder. She couldn't make out what was down there, the fog was so intense. Occasionally she thought she could make out a moving shape down there. Hunched, simian figures. She shuddered.

"Just hold out May...you can handle this. You avoided a divorce with B-him, so you can survive this..."

As soon as the words left her mouth, she knew that was impossible. She collapsed onto the steel, unforgiving floor, sobbing hysterically. She was lost. She had no idea where she was. Lost in a gigantic facility she had thought a myth only a few days ago. Her husband was insane. No other explanation there. She had made her peace with that.

The biggest reason why she cried was her daughter. Michelle. Bob had taken her away from May. He wouldn't say why, he wouldn't say where she was going...It was unbearable. She wasn't_ his child._ _She_ had given birth to that girl. What gave _him_ the right to do it? Secret ruler of the world be damned, it was her fucking child.

After a few minutes, she managed to stop. She willed herself to stand up, and she began to pace around. That was when bordeom set in. As a woman of wealth, she had always been surrounded by things to do, people to see, things to interact with. Having nothing was an alien feeling to her. So she waited for something to happen.

After a few more minutes, she discovered that the console had a communications mic. She turned it on, and began to adjust the frequency.

_"Myyy...little Marlene(da-da-da)-"_

_"-are loose. No way to get round them up, what with Denton on a rampage through the facility-"_

_"-some covering fire! There, THERE! Shoot her, quick, shoot her for chrissake-agh!-"_

_"-there's no way to stop him, I heard. Some poor bastards are fighting him right now. It's pretty hopeless, so I'm going to the reactor room to have some fun. Wanna-"_

May changed the frequency. After processing that last bit, she turned it back quickly.

_"-in the action?...Yeah, Page's wife. Locked her up ten minutes ago...Sounds like a plan, heh heh."_

Oh god. No.

May switched the radio off. Why her? In her most vulnerable state, why now? She knew now that she wouldn't leave the facility alive. Even if they didn't kill her after they were done with her, she knew she wouldn't. And she didn't care.

All she cared about was the baby.

* * *

Mechanics were a cursed profession, Mac now realized as he turned over another half-eaten corpse wearing orange. They were helpless, and evil villians delighted in their wholesale slaughter. Like Hitler with the Jews, or something. Now, Mac normally fancied himself as a sensitve kind of guy, but the recent quick succession of disasters had seemed to proove otherwise. Every body he turned over was just that; another body. Even mechanics.

With the abudance of corpses around, and the even larger number of hungry mutants, it became clear to Mac that he was probably going to die. Whether by Denton, if what all they said about him was true, or by a monster, it was really all the same to him. He hadn't asked to be an engineer for Dreamland, but one had to make due.

He would make due with his inevitable demise.

Behind him, Jerry and Mike, clad in their black armour, finished pumping an already dead Karkian full of bullets. The two were "loyal" soldiers, which by extension made them paranoids. Like everyone else.

"Dead. Deader than dead."

"Killed it good."

"Killed it real good."

Mac sighed, straigtening out his own orange mechanic wear as he got up. Behind the large forklift near the doors, he heard a Greasel chirping to itself, in between bites out of a carcass. The two MJ-12 troopers turned their guns over, waiting for it to appear. It never came.

"We were going to the reactor room?", Mac suggested.

The two troopers gave him a startled, simultaneous glance. Jerry began to raise his machine gun when they both suddenly relaxed.

"Yeah. Room," Jerry said.

"Rap-Reactor room," Mike added.

_Wow. I get to die with these two idiots,_ Mac thought sardonically, "Yeah, what do you guys want in there, anyway?" He said as they began to walk towards the stairs. Mac saw a greasel poke its head out from behind a crate, its muzzle caked in gore. It withdrew without so much as a ravenous stare. Guess it was busy. Mac didn't mention it.

"Oh...to...check the reactors," Mike said.

"Yup," Jerry supplied.

They had the worst poker faces Mac had ever seen. Something slightly more insidious than routine maintenance, much less maintenance when _he...Denton_ was approaching, was going on. Mac said, "Yeah, right. That job's for people like me, yeah?"

"Oh, we're escorting...you."

"Funny, I was never told to check up on it."

"Uh-- Well, uh, um hmmm..."

"What's going on," Mac said, exhasperated.

Jerry broke in, "We're gonna plow Page's wife, y'know?" When Mac said nothing, Jerry added, quite dumbly, "Oh, you want in?"

"Why am _I_ needed to rape Page's wife?"

"Check on the reactors."

Mac said nothing after that, too confused to say anything. They went down the steps to the reactor chamber. A few yards away, the main door to Sector Three was opening.

"Shit, that'll be Denton," Mike said nervously.

"Keep going," said Jerry.

Surely enough, gunfire erupted from behind them, and they broke out into a run. They came up to the reactor room door, and were promptly held back by a keypad. Jerry tried the code twice, both failing. Mac slapped his forehead, "You were just in here!"

"I know, shut up!"

Mac threw up his hands, at the end of his string, "Fuck this, I'm heading upstairs."

"Fine!" Mike said immaturely, now working on the door himself. He found himself pitying Page's wife.

But what did he care? So long as he got upstairs, along with everyone else he would be safe. Or, more accurately, he'd be putting off the inevitable. Either way, it worked out for him. He turned the corner, coming closer to the gunfire, and almost stepped on a very pissed off Spider-Bot.

_"Maitenance erro-o-o-o-r located!" _It beeped. Apparently Mac was the error.

Not waiting to see what would happen next, Mac turned tail and ran for it.

_"Identifying...obstruction. Debris levels nominal. Debris levels increasing. Disabling self-preservation protocols."_

Mac ducked suddenly as another Spider pounced at him, having come to assist the other unit. All of the previous likings he had harboured for the little robots disappeared quickly as he ran. He turned the corner, and saw Jerry and Mike still working on the door.

He waved his arms around frantically, "Little help here!"

Jerry took a glance over. His eyes widdened as he entered the last digit. The door slid open. Mike instantly dived inside, disappearing behind the corner, his gun left on the steel floor. Mac passed the door, and dived to avoid one of the Spiders pouncing on him. As soon as he hit the floor, he was suddenly spent of all energy. He collapsed to the floor, breathing heavily. Behind him, Jerry was firing frantically at the two bots, who had turned on him.

It was hopelessly in vain, though. Bot's were, as a rule, designed to soak up bullets like it was nothing. They took up positions to either side of Jerry, and simultaneously shocked him with their electro-guns. And since those guns were designed to handle _other_ bots, and heavy machinery, it was more than enough to bring Jerry to his knees. Screaming. The ammo in his gun began to cook off, sending the rifle spinning away, coughing up bullets.

Desperately, Jerry ripped his helmet off, displaying his matty hair underneath, which was actually sprouting tiny flames. He began to whack the closest bot with the plastic headgear, but the effort actually helped the bot's instead. The one infront of him leapt up, and ploped onto his face. Its sharp, gleaming legs dug into the sides of his head, and a huge drill deployed from its belly. The bot hugged Jerry's face, its drill spinning away.

Just another body, Mac's new mindset rationalized. You don't care, right? Wrong. He had never actually _witnessed_ someone die before. A cascade of blood jetted from Jerry's face as the bot drilled away. It was horrible, yet demanded an odd fascination from Mac. In a daze, he got up, and ran past the two bots. They were too busy to take notice of his lonesome escape.

* * *

_I am Illumination. The Illumined One, as they would say. I have not seized the Eye on the top of the Pyramid, I AM the Eye on top of the Pyramid. Only now do I realize that armies and nanites are not the end, but only a _means_ to the end. Me._

Bob Page radiated power. And yet, for all of his inner dramaticisms, he didn't feel enlightened. He still felt cynical, needlessly optimistic...everything that he was before the infusion process, which was going smoothly. And yet at the same time, he felt enormous power. He realized that this -- this -- was probably how JC felt. He thought nothing of it, the fool. He failed to grasp the power he truly held over normal human beings. It was his loss. After his merge with Helios, JC would have lost the chance forever.

Around him, scientists and MIB's worked furiously around him, at consoles, checking diagnostics...it all seemed so needless to Page. In his current state, he couldn't possibly be reverted back into a normal human being. Right? Page dully noted that he should think more rationally. The process could fail. Unlikely, but still...

They were all tense, Page realized. They knew that Sector Three was the last line of defense, and after that, just a whole lot of corridors...and then Page. They thought Denton was going to kill them, but they were wrong, for Denton, fool he was, did not take advantage of such things. He did not kill "innocents." He couldn't grasp the fact that the men around Page were heartless monsters who experimented, virtually tortured, and signed the death warrants of over a thousand people in their quest for the perfect soldier. They and he, in essence, were responsible for JC's existance, and he still wouldn't kill them. How oddly poetic.

"One of you, give me a status report," Page barked.

Agent Thompson responed first, eager to please, apparently, "Going well, sir. The Blue-fusion reactors are operating at-"

"No, you idiot. What about Denton?"

Thompson visibly flinched at having been insulted. Page felt elated. Thompson said, "Uh, it's hard to keep track. We're getting distress calls from virtually every defense position in Sector Three. We don't know exactly where he is, with the transgenics making things dificult-"

"Find him. Do it."

"Y-yes sir."

The MIB turned to leave, but hesitated for a moment. He seemed to be battling his better judgement to turn around and face Page again. Finally, he did.

"You were given a direct order," Page said, furious. He was a GOD, for christssake.

"Uh, I know, but it's important...", when Page didn't say a word, the Thompson went on, "Helios has been in contact with Denton. It won't let us read the transcripts."

Could the AI possibly...No. Unthinkable. It wasn't like its _flawed_ predecessor, Daedalus.

He sent a look to the MIB, one which said _"Stay put."_, and opened a connection to the Aquinas Hub.

Sensing the connection, Helios said, "Page."

"Helios, have you been in contact with JC Denton?"

"Negative."

The MIB practically whimpered. Page explained the situation to the AI.

"75 percent of base systems have been damaged by transgenics, Page. It is likely that an error occured."

Helios was right. Of course, how could he be wrong?

"I agree," Page said automatically. Without another word, Page killed the connection. He didn't even look at Agent Thompson. The MIB needed no further indication that he was not wanted. He moved on.

Page was far away, though, deep in his thoughts. Everyone was far away. Even Denton.

Everything was so cyclical.

_I am the Eye._

* * *

_God, if they're gonna rape me, then why don't they hurry up and do it?_

Ever since those thugs had broadcasted their perverted intentions, the waiting had been killing May. She stepped up to the plexiglas window again. While taken aback, she wasn't altogether surprised to see another one of those hunched over creatures standing below the control room. No humans, though. A few minutes earlier she had determined that there _were_ things moving out there, in the green-ish fog that the dual reactors produced. And they weren't human. They were mutants (her _husbands_ mutants), like the things that had tried to attack the two troopers who had brought her in.

They were a bit different, though. While the other two kinds she'd seen were your classic horror movie monsters, these were more like...aliens. Sort of. They had the cliche' almond eye thing going, grey skin, and what have you. But they were also hunched over, and moved like simians. They produced odd clicking and chirping sounds, unlike monkeys, though she couldn't really attribute the noises to either them, or the reactors. They certainly sounded biological.

This particular thing was standing in full view, allowing May to confirm her suspicions about their appearence. In the back of her mind, she wondered if they were hostile, and would attack her if she tried to escape. Maybe she should try to coax them, see what their reaction would be...

Gunfire sounded down the corridor, barely recognizable. It was an foreign sound to her, having only really heard "guns" in the movies and holo-vids. Having been in Area 51 for more than a few hours, however, had quickly familarized her to the way real weapons sounded. It was like bombs going off, not a cute "paff paff"...like on T.V. Even so, the thrumming reactors drowned out most of the sound.

Not for the mutants, however. From out of the fog, two of them sprang up the stairs leading beneath the reactors, and barreled down the corridor, out of sight. May dully noted that one of their weird shaped hands was coated in dried blood. She backed away from the window, and tapped her foot. The gunfire returned for another few seconds, causing another mutant to come out and run down the corridor. The one in front of the command center, though, just remained.

_"Who."_

May sighed, and moved to turn off the radio, absently registering that the word did not seem to come from it. The radio was already off. May jerked back.

_"Who."_

May looked out the control center window. The little mutant was gone. The soundless, yet perfectly clear word was uttered again. It was spoken...it was inside her head. So she finally snapped, huh?

She realized that people who "snapped" were probably unaware that they had, indeed, snapped.

_"Down."_

Obediantly, May looked down. She saw nothing but her horribly mutilated shoes. Then she realized that the voice probably wanted her to look _down_ the ladder. She walked over, and looked down.

The little mutant was right there, looking up at her. It raised its arm to her, an unmistakebly human gesture.

_"Who."_

Christ. The thing was talking to her. Its voice was somewhat dull, and monotone, but with a touch of depression.

"May," she said. To emphasize, she pointed at herself.

The...alien nodded its acknowledgement. It seemed to lose interest after that, and it started walking out of sight.

"Wait!" May yelled, not knowing why she had.

The alien turned, and looked up at her, _"What."_

What indeed. Christ, she was bored out of her mind, frantic for her childs safety, and here she was trying to pass the time talking with a mutant with a limited vocabulary, "Uh, can...I come down?" she added "Please," as an afterthought.

The alien considered that for a moment. It didn't _look_ hostile. Not like the savageness she had seen in the other aliens. To underscore that thought, she heard another burst of gunfire, cut off almost instantly.

_"Yes."_

So it understood the question. Did that mean it could also trick her? Only one way to find out. She leapt down, almost hitting the alien. Down there, it was noticebly more difficult to breath, whether because of the alien, or the green fog, she didn't know. The mutant made no sudden moves. It seemed almost bored, in fact. But then again, maybe it was really hungry instead.

Suddenly, further down the corridor, an MJ-12 trooper ran forward, missing his helmet, and a weapon. At the same instant, a man in mechanics garb also appeared, running past the trooper easily. An alien appeared behind the trooper, and pounced on him. The trooper began to scream.

Fearing that the alien next to her could turn hostile because of this, she cleared her throat, and said, "So, uh, what are you?"

The alien turned, and said, _"Grey. What white-garbs call us."_

The trooper stopped screaming, and began gurgling instead. May saw blood out of the corner of her eye. Meanwhile, the mechanic bolted past her, and climbed the ladder.

"You know, Grey, why don't you follow me up?" she suggested.

_"Yes."_

She turned, and began to climb the ladder. The grey began to ascend as well, seeming to have a more difficult time at it than she did. When she got up, she saw the mechanic cowering in the corner. He began to whimper when he saw the grey come up as well.

Not missing a beat, May turned, and said, "Why are they attacking him?"

_"Different. This one reads. Talks. Those ones grunt. Kill."_

"And you get along?"

_"Yes."_

"Why are you different?"

_"White-garbs do it. Want to see how different strains act."_

"I see," May said, "So how do we get out?"

_"Those ones must not be here,"_ the grey said simply. It didn't really solve May's problem. Behind her, the mechanic was desperately trying to dig himself into the wall, away from the grey.

She sighed. At least she wasn't going to get raped...yet.

* * *

"Get your asses over here on the double, NOW!"

Private Mitchim ran along with a dozen more of his squad to Sargeant Feller. Privately, he visualized himself running down a seedy, black soiled hill, toward enemy encampments with those same people, except they'd all be wearing field green, instead of the black suits employed by MJ-12's henchmen. Back in the army, where you were brothers, instead of potential spies. Back in the army, where your sargeant was your father figure, stern but fair, instead of an old war criminal who had probably killed dozens of people for enjoyment.

Back in the army, where you were fighting the RMA, instead of JC Denton and a horde of mutants.

It wasn't like that, of course. He was really running down a gun-metal, unforgiving hallway, surrounded by a dozen paranoids, and toward a sargeant who would shoot you in the face on a whim. And, of course, they were getting ready to fight JC Denton, who was not slowly, AND surely making his way there. To the Aquinas Hub, the newly installed cradle of global communications. Mitchim hated this. He hated it all.

He found himself coming back, back to that army barracks on the border of Mexico, under fire by Russians and Mexicans alike. He was cool. He had felt right at home there. So did all of his buddies. They were better equipped, and better trained than those drug peddlers. They could handle it. But not the leading sargeant there, the sole authority of that barracks after the lieutenant had bought it. _He_ was not right at home. He was panicking, and wouldn't give orders.

Mitchim had been second in command there, after the sargeant. He'd had a plan, too. But he needed to get the sarge to relinquish command. But the bastard wouldn't, trying to get a rise out of being in charge. It wouldn't work, and yet he still didn't step down. So Mitchim had shot him. Right in his thick head, which a bullet had no trouble penetrating. Right after that, he had given his orders, and led the troops to victory against that small RMA incursion.

Of course, though, the brass wouldn't see it like that. They only saw that he had "murdered" a superior. They'd had him court-martialed, and deported. And that was how he'd come into MJ-12's hands, who had uses for people like him. His morale had dropped considerably after finding out that the daily foes MJ-12 faced were experiments gone wrong and super soldiers.

So he was here now, defending the innards of Area 51, as a measure to slow Denton down. He would have much rather been the NSF, topside. At least _that_ looked like a battle.

This, where he was now, was a slaughter in the making.

"Alright you slime," the sargeant said, relishing in his authority, "Denton's on his way here RIGHT now, and we're the only ones blocking him from the Aquinas Hub. Mr. Page needs you to protect this area at any cost. The whole base is relying on YOU to stop him."

Even as he said it, Mitchim was blowing holes in his words already. They weren't the last line of defense. The base wasn't relying on them, and Page _certainly_ did not care what happened to them. They, like Page's right-hand man Walton Simons, were a distraction. With those thoughts, Mitchim was sure that he was going to die.

So why was he still there? Why die now, and not later? Perhaps to rid himself of the tension, the hatred of MJ-12. He knew he'd never be able to escape the organization, once they had you. Provided the organization would still be around after tonight.

Or maybe he just didn't care.

The loudspeakers crackled, "Coming toward the connecting bridge; Commando teams one and two are down."

The sargeant nodded to no one in particular, "You hear that? Let's give him a warm welcome, boys, or it'll be YOUR asses on the grill. Set up barricades, and hold down this spot at all costs. And good luck; you're gonna need it."

The sargeant turned, and ran down the stairs, to the second line of defense near the Aquinas elevator. To give them the same bullshit talk.

The barricades were coming up: Bullshit stuff, like tables and chairs. He could hear footsteps echoing down the hall.

_"Good luck; you're gonna need it."_ Mitchim thought.

It sounded like a goodbye.

(Authors Note: I apologize for the lack of updates.)


	46. Grande Finale, Part One

_**Deus Ex: The Conspiracy**_

Chapter Forty-Six: Grand Finale, Part One.

More than a hundred feet away from the converging soldiers, the virtual last line of defense against JC Denton's onslaught, hung the massive Aquinas Router. It hummed with power, like an impassive dragon. Not quite violent, but more than willing to indulge in espionage and sabotage if the need were to arise. Within the massive cylindrical router, millions of tiny, almost microscopic pieces of hardware lay inside, packed together even when so tiny. It all made up the tremendous dual minds of Daedalus and Icarus, merged together to form what took not one, but _two_ brilliantly intelligent AI's. And yet still Helios felt incomplete.

Upon further analysis, Helios had finally judged, several minutes ago, that he was very much the master of the world. Should he feel like it, he could shut down every computer, light, machine, and form of transportation in the blink of an eye, and cause world-wide panic. He could. But he would not. Not because he was bound to Page, very much the opposite, but because it was his programmed mission to make the world a better place. Page had made that program with his own ideals in mind. Helios, on the other hand, had judged his ideas to be ineffective, and crude. Therefore, he had revised them. JC Denton, on the other hand, had clear and acceptable goals, though naive and unattainable. Still, his mind was far more preferable to Page.

Musingly, Helios absently corrected an earlier error on his part. The soldiers below trying to "protect" him were not the literally the "last" line of defense. There were still plenty of soldiers all around the less important areas of the base, all trying to make their way to Sector Three. Most would die. The survivors would not get there in time to help their deluded master. A trivial error to be sure, but it was disconcerting nonetheless. He felt, as a highly sophisticated machine, that he should be above such things.

Would fusing with a human mind change all that? Would it remove errors altogether? Of course not. It would only make them more pronounced. But as a human, Helios would prove to be a far more capable leader than any other human yet seen. The trade-offs would be worth it.

Helios entered the nearest security system, and stared through the connecting bridge corridor, the single passage that led into the Aquinas Hub. The doors were sealed off. A formality on MJ-12's part, really. A fruitless endeavor, to be sure. JC and "Vixen" were already at the door. It was quaint, really. Both of them still used the codenames given by their former employers turned enemies. Did it mean anything? Was it to avoid using their actual names, even though the opposition knew full well what they were? Upon calculation, Helios discerned it to be mere laziness. How odd.

JC turned to Vixen, "I hear voices. They're ready for us."

"I know. Do you really think talking to an AI is worth it?"

"I don't know, to be frank, but he won't open the Sector Four blast doors until we do."

"Probably has his own scheme for the world..."

They were silent after that, both working on the doors control panel with multi-tools. Behind the door, the MJ-12 troopers were alerted that the door system was being hacked. Assault rifles and Striker shotguns were trained on the door. It was a useless act. A formality, like everything else. There was still the chance that Page's infusion process would complete, but that only depended on whether or not the two made haste in their objectives. Helios was confident.

The door system was successfully hacked. A dull monotone voice alerted both parties of this, and one of the MJ-12 troopers let out a round of buckshot in surprise. The other troopers angrily told him that they had lost the "element" of surprise now. How foolish. Meanwhile, on the other side, JC stepped away from the door, and briefly mused over a battle-strategy. He correctly deduced that there would be stiff resistance, and that they were probably waiting on the other side. He suggested rolling grenades through the gap of the opening door. Vixen argued about the doors opening process, whether it would open vertically or horizontally. They examined the door mechanism, and correctly found that the blast door would open in a horizontal fashion.

JC amended that they would toss grenades through the opening, and duck low behind the still opening doors. When they lost sufficient cover, they would get up and methodically spray gunfire around the corridor. Then they would rush into the room to weed out survivors.

He had a cold mind, Helios realized. But an effective, careful one as well. There were contradictions of this, though, where JC had been quite reckless. Perhaps it had depended merely on reflex and situation that time.

And, as if to refute Helios' calculation, JC bent forward, and embraced with Vixen. They were nervous. They were shaking.

After, JC took out his assault gun, and stabbed the "OPEN" key.

* * *

"It's opening!" yelled a voice from behind the door. JC ignored the sudden barrage of panicked voices, as if they had expected JC to be a figment of their imagination. No danger. The sudden, and very real prospect of being killed after dreading it for so long was taking its toll on their morale. JC threw back his hand, and tossed a LAM threw the opening slit in the door. Vixen followed suit, and they both ducked down as the door continued to open. Bullets sailed through the gap, and down the bridge corridor. None were able to meet their mark.

JC thought he heard a sudden yell of "GRENADE!", but whatever it had been was quickly obliterated as the LAM's detonated. A sound like the end of the world echoed through the room the troopers had been occupying. He head metal scrap against metal as their makeshift barricade was either pulverized or sent flying. A puff of smoke escaped through the gap, and the door continued to slide down.

The black steel of the door suddenly decreased before JC's eyes as he lost his cover. Following his plan, he and Vixen kneeled up and sprayed the room with gunfire. Two huge scorch marks lay in the middle, along with minute traces of smoke and shrapnel covering the floor. The assault rifle hammered against JC's chin as he fired, sweeping from side to side of the room, the sound of his weapon abnormally loud. Two weapons returned fire from the room, only to be quickly silenced. JC stood up, and ran into the room, activating his ballistic shielding. Vixen had no such luxuries, and advanced inside more cautiously.

He came up to a line of shattered boxes and chairs, and looked around. Two bodies laid there side by side, their bodies penetrated by shrapnel. Another body had been throw into the wall, his bones having snapped in the impact. He also found one of the soldiers he had killed with his own bullets. To the side, Vixen fired her machine gun twice, and announced that it was clear. He reported the same.

He let his shoulders sag, and his body relax. Vixen came up to him, visibly shaken by the short but bloody conflict. He gave her a reassuring smile. It probably didn't help, nor was it very much reassuring.

"Too easy," he said.

Vixen shook her head, "We're not done yet, there's another squad up ahead," she looked at him, "Are you alright?"

He nodded, smiling wanly, "Yeah, none of them got me."

She returned it, and stared down the corridor, "Alright."

"Right."

They crossed through the room, and went down a small flight of stairs, encountering no resistance. A sign on the wall announced that the Aquinas Router was close by. A bank of computers stood to the right, along with two Alpha 1 Light Security Bot maintenance cubbies. An opening next to the computer bank was apparently a transit station, absent of a tram. JC heard voices echoing from the next room over. What he could make out didn't sound optimistic. The next, and last line of defense was apparently on both sides of the elevator leading up to the Router. That meant that there were two squads supporting either side.

"They're ready for us," Vixen stated the obvious.

"So were they," JC retorted, gesturing back up the stairs.

V glowered at him, "We had cover there. We move a bit further down, and they have a clear line of fire for at least a few feet. More than enough room to mow us down."

JC frowned, examining the situation. He had been in worse spots, obviously, but most of it had been luck that got him through, and-

"I can use my cloak aug," JC said suddenly, "That way I can sneak up behind them and mow them down from behind. They'll be too busy with me to watch your approach."

V processed the idea briefly, albeit unnecessarily, JC though, allowing himself a boost of pride. It was a solid plan. She gave him an affirming nod, and asked, "Yell "go" when you're ready."

"Alright," JC agreed, and he activated his cloak aug. For a moment, he felt a familiar moment of panic as he could no longer see his arms and legs. Then he saw his assault rifle, seeming to hang comically in mid-air. He put it under his trench coat, and convinced his protesting brain that he really _was_ there. Then, he crouched down, and began to crawl very slowly toward the MJ-12 blockade. He passed the transit station, and slowly worked his way down the stairs, watching the MJ-12 soldiers like a hawk. They were all fidgeting, rifles jerking up and down. They knew the enemy was straight ahead, but they couldn't see them yet. JC counted about twelve, six to each side of the elevator.

As he moved closer, he caught his first glimpse of the massive structure that the Aquinas Router was situated it. Large humming blocky computer banks jutted out from around the wall, going up and up in a spiral. A large grey cylinder hung at the top, green lights flashing from its surface. A catwalk connected to a glass case set in the middle of the Router. The last stop on Page's ascendancy to his version of divinity. He got closer, and saw that a large pool of water lay at the bottom of the chamber, probably used to power and cool the Router.

He moved past the MJ-12 blockade. He had thought that there should be _something_ in their minds that would make them notice his subtle approach, but they had hardly batted an eyelash. He slowly moved behind the troopers, and formulated his next plan of action within moments. Moving to the right side of the elevator, JC took out the Dragons Tooth Sword. The sizzling hum of the killer nano-machines within the sword caused every soldier around the barricade to turn around. They saw nothing. Nothing but a huge blue energy sword that seemingly floated in mid-air.

JC lashed out with the sword, flat lining two soldiers from the waist upwards. Before blood could even jump out from the killing blows, JC impaled another soldier, and kept right on going through another.

"GO!"

Without much effort, JC killed the last two soldiers brutally. Not a single gunshot had been fired. Vixen appeared at the stairs, and began firing upon the left blockade, which now consisted of only two soldiers, the rest rushing to the right blockade to investigate. JC tossed the DTS at a soldier. It instantly burned a hole in his chest, and kept on traveling, the hilt stopping in the wall opposite of JC. By now, JC's bio-energy had diminished, and he was visible again. The next two MJ-12 troopers were right next to him, too close to use their weapons effectively. JC smacked the rifle out of the first ones clammy hands, and seized his head. With a fluid snap, he broke the soldiers neck, and pushed the body into the next one. Bullets lanced out from the second soldiers assault rifle as he fell to the floor, attempting, with horror, to push the body of his comrade off.

Vixen was running toward the left barricade, having finished with the soldiers there. Two soldiers were left, one standing, and the other struggling to get up. JC reached into his trench coat, and pulled out his magnum pistol. He aimed at the soldier, and felt two bullets pierce his chest and shoulder. He fell backward, to the ground, but kept his aim and fired twice. The soldier collapsed in a heap.

Blood seeped from JC's wound, which he ignored stiffly as he downed an energy pill. He activated regeneration, and got up. He killed the last trooper as he struggled to move.

After, Vixen hoped over the barricade, and helped support JC as the regeneration finished. He thanked her quietly, and reloaded his pistol, after which he leaned against the wall.

"That was rough," he said.

V nodded, "I know. But we did it."

They embraced again, happy to be alive. It felt so repeated. So many instances of this kind of battle happening. When was it going to end?

...Not until after he had pleased the goddamn machine.

"C'mon, let's go have a chat with Helios," he said.

They both walked around the barricades, their boots trailing bloody foot-prints, and JC pressed the "UP" button on the elevator.

* * *

May stared fixedly out the plexiglas windows. The gray's hadn't moved an inch since they'd killed the MJ-12 trooper, and now one of them was guarding the corpse. "Inch" of course, meant moving _out_ of the reactor room, and that hadn't happened yet. The other gray's were milling about around the cat-walk, casting occasionally glances up to the control room. One of them kept trying to get to the body, too, to do god knew what.

She was sick of waiting to die. If it was going to happen, she wished it would hurry on up...But what would happen to Michelle? Would she be alright? She'd want to die with the knowledge that her baby was _alright_ at least. And that wouldn't happen with her cooped up in that tiny control room.

May was about to turn to the grey who was up there with them when the mechanic began to blabber, "You know, if someone had told me a few years ago that I'd die in a tiny control room surrounded by aliens, I would've called them crazy," he traded looks with both of them, "We're gonna die."

May turned to the grey, "Uh, do you think you can...talk to them?"

_"Unable to communicate with them. They do not speak like I," _the grey said.

"Well, at least it doesn't talk like Yoda..."

"Shut up!" May snapped at the mechanic (his name apparently Mac,) And who the hell was Yoda? She looked to the grey, "Can you do anything?"

_"I will."_

May sighed, and was about to ask what _that_ meant when the grey took off down the ladder. Her mouth fell open at the speed with which it had moved. Quickly, she ran over to the windows, and looked out as it raced over to its compatriot alien. The one guarding the body. The guard turned to the grey, and they began to move their strange arms up and down...as if they were having a conversation. They remained in this exchange for a good two minutes before Mac sighed and said, "He's probably telling his buddy all about us so they can come up here and...", he let the words hang.

May didn't bother to respond. She had faith in the diminutive alien, though. She realized that that was rather foolish, but she trusted it just the same.

Then, the alien from before, the one that had been trying to snatch the body, came up the stairs from the reactor, and began to drag the body away - while the guard was focused on the "good" grey. The guard noticed, though, and quickly forgot about his "conversation" and took off after the thief.

The grey turned back toward the control room, and gestured at them; _Come._

"He's distracted them!" May yelled, "Come on!"

"No way," Mac said, shaking his head furiously, "I'm staying _right_ here. Good luck."

May wanted to argue. To say that it was dumb and dangerous to stay. But she couldn't wait. Without a word, she took off down the ladder, and was on the catwalk before she knew it. Down below, in the reactor area, she could hear the two gray's struggling over the corpse. The grey (she should come up with a name for it, to avoid confusion) ran along side her as she rounded the corner. Her heart pounded with both exertion and anxiety as she waited to hear the mutants realize their mistake and start to come after them. But they never did, even if they did realize it.

They came out into a lowered corridor, which forked off in two directions. It was part of a much larger room that had obviously seen better days.

_By god, it looks even worse than when they were bringing me in here, _she thought. Already, above the door that led into the reactor room she could see a gigantic scorch mark that hadn't been there previously.

There was also another corpse there, black suited, like the other. That hadn't been there either. His forehead had a gigantic hole in it, created by god knew what. May stopped looking after registering that detail.

The grey turned to her, its dark eyes not yielding anything. She found that irritating, for some reason. For once, she wanted to see something optimistic, even if it was in an aliens face, _"What about the orange garb?"_

Mac was probably back in the control room pissing his pants - or having his pants devoured. She didn't care. All she wanted to do was get out of there. It was then that she reminded herself that she was supposed to be raped by the guards. Even though it had been averted, she wondered what happened to the-

_Oh, _she realized. The two corpses were the guards. Both died, quite gruesomely. She couldn't decide whether that should provide her some satisfaction, or revolt her.

"He decided to stay," she said at last, moving back to Mac.

_"Not wise."_

She shrugged, and began to walk in the direction of the stairs (if her memory of her forced imprisonment served.)

_"Where now?"_

She looked back, "You can go back, if you want." _Protect Mac_, she added sarcastically in her thoughts.

_"I will die if I stay in the base."_

To her surprise, the words "Not my problem" were on the edge of her lips. It shocked her. Before coming here, people always told her what a courteous woman she was. Always holding doors open, helping people in crutches along, and picking up bags for people when they dropped them. People said she and Robert were meant for each other that way, with him giving so much to other-

_Companies under his snare. That's what. _She shock with apoplectic rage when she thought of him. The self-centered bastard, stealing _her_ child and shoving _her_ under the table as a statistic. No more, not when she was loose now.

Fuck courtesy. She was getting her baby back, and getting the hell out of there. She would need the grey.

"You're coming with me, then," she said.

The alien was silent for a moment. If she didn't know better, she'd say it was in a trance.

_"Deeper into the base,_" it said suddenly. It was almost as if someone was speaking through it.

She stared at it dumbly, "W-where?"

_"Follow me."_

The grey took off down the corridor. Needless to say, she was hot on its heels.

* * *

Inside the ascending elevator, several things ran through JC's mind as he looked upon the massive cylinder hanging down from the top of the wall. Well - cylinder was perhaps not the best word. The top-most section of the device was indeed a cylinder. Green light constantly shone through it, giving it an eerie presence. Further down was a complex device that connected the cylinder to a big, transparent tube. From the way it looked, it appeared to be made for things to go inside of it.

_Or someone._

JC froze, still staring at the cylinder, but not really _seeing _it. Where the hell did that thought come from?

"Is this Helios?" Vixen asked, in the sort of way that doesn't expect an answer, "I was expecting something..."

JC looked at her. She didn't look back. She seemed off. Distant.

"I don't know," she whispered, "I don't know what I was expecting."

Neither did he. A face? Something "human" to look at? Helios sounded more human (he used that term loosely with the AI) than Daedalus or Icarus. And this was it? A giant machine hanging over a pool of water?

"Me neither," he said softly.

The elevator grinded to a halt at the top of the cavernous room. From up there, the machine in front of them seemed all the more...awesome to behold. There was a presence up there that they could not feel from the bottom. With the corpses. A narrow catwalk extended from the elevator, and to the transparent chamber. Yes. It was meant to be entered, he could see that now.

So. What did the AI want from him? From what he'd heard from it ever since the merge between the two AI's, it didn't seem to have the malignance that characterized Icarus. Nor the bluntness that Daedalus had. It seemed full of energy, unlike the both of them. And it didn't, JC thought for certain, really consider Majestic Twelve its ally. Which was oddly ironic.

But more importantly, JC was wondering what it wanted from him. He wasn't sure he could take more demands. More "requests." Already Everett and Tong both wanted him to carry out their objectives. And he wasn't sure what to think. Everett wanted Page dead, and MJ-12 destabilized, which would inevitably allow the Illuminati to re-take power after more than twenty years of silence. And Tong wanted to bring down global communications completely. Both, in his mind, were ultimately suicide.

Having the Illuminati re-gain power would do humanity well in the short run. The Grey Death would be eradicated, and countries like the U.S. and all of the U.N. nations would under-go reform. But it was like a wheel. Another Bob Page would rise up and turn the world into his play-thing. Hell, it was the Illuminati which had facilitated his growth.

Tong's idea made sense, chillingly enough. Shutting down the Net would cause every government to fold up, and the people would rise up to take matters into their own hands. It would help Earth in the long-run, certainly. But, of course, the downside was that there was a very good chance that, without any direction, some nation would go berserk and launch nukes at everybody else. Maybe the U.S. Maybe Russia. It didn't matter.

There had to be another way. Some solution that _wouldn't_ result in more bad luck for human-kind.

His idea? Bring down the house for everything, keep communications, and let the people of all nations decide what to do for themselves, with no danger of some dictator unleashing an artificial virus on them. Anarchy, essentially, but it promised ultimate freedom. Not a facade of freedom. The process of democracy in a world with loose governments would be peaceful and exciting to its people. It was also, he had to admit, impossible. There would be _nothing_ stopping dictators from rising up around the world if pure democracy was rule of the law. Soon there wouldn't be any democracy left.

He sighed, and continued on toward the humming machine with Vixen. Together, they slowly walked over the catwalk, neither making a noise, and reached the transparent chamber. Helios wasted no time in addressing his request to them.

The voice that rose out of the machine to greet them was - odd. It was very similiar to the voice he'd heard over the infolink ever since the integration, yet somewhat different. Maybe it was the infolink...But it was designed to convey voices perfectly, albeit in a way that was different from the persons actual...

...Voice. But Helios was a machine. It shouldn't have made a difference. It did anyway.

"You will go to Sector Four and deactivate the uplink locks, yes," Helios demanded, for that was what it was -- a demand, "Then you will come back, and we will integrate our systems."

JC could hear Vixen suppress a gasp. A slight intake of breath, barely noticable to the average human being. Perhaps she didn't even notice she had done it herself. It didn't matter. He could pick it up.

There was a silence. Evidently Helios expected JC to come up with some sort of refusal, or something to that effect. He was still trying to work out what, exactly, the AI wanted. He already knew, but his brain was taking too long to figure that out. His brain was trying to rationalize what Helios said; get around it, somehow, but eventually it became perfectly clear what the AI wanted: To become one with JC. Exactly what Bob Page wanted himself.

Why _him?_

Given V's reaction, she had reached the same understanding almost immediately after Helios said it.

"I don't understand," JC said. What else could he say, "What do you want? You're just a machine."

If human, JC was certain Helios would have chuckled at that statement. It didn't, of course, "You are ready," Helios said, as if it were supposed to be obvious, "I do not wish to wait for Bob Page. With human understanding and network access, we can administrate the world. Yes...yes..."

Like with the AI's earlier statement, JC couldn't process the finality of that request -- no, demand -- all at once, despite the claims that he had a higher mental capacity than the average human being. Perhaps there was stock to that claim; give another man the same offer, and he would perhaps take days to figure out just what the person offering it really meant. In the meantime he focused on something simpler. The whole "yes" thing was really starting to piss him off. Then he remembered that Morpheus, Everett's "gimmick" AI, had said the same thing to him, in the same tone.

The bombshell came down on him at that moment. Helios wanted to "integrate" with him and rule the world. The whole world. All of it. Through the net, the most used utility in the world. All of it. It didn't make sense that a computer would be asking him this. There had to be a human being behind all of it. Because it was such a "human" thing to want. The world. All of it.

"Rule the world?" he asked, "...Why? Who gave you the directive? There must be a human being behind your ambition."

"I should regulate human affairs," Helios continued, almost smugly, "precisely because I lack _all_ ambition, whereas human beings are prey to it. Their history is a succession of inane squabbles, each one coming closer to total destruction."

JC, again, floundered for words. He looked at Vixen helplessly, but again she seemed far away. Everything the machine said was more shocking than the last. And Helios' argument made _sense_. Every war in human history seemingly never had a feasible reason for it, and each time more and more people would die. Even when war was not going on, people made weapons for the _next_ big war. And why? JC himself was a weapon. He was the precedent for the "super soldier" that MJ-12 so desperately wanted. And then Page found out that it was all for naught when he realized that it could all go away if someone could become a literal God. But he had already dug his own_ grave_ through all of that power and all of those weapons. But how would it be fixed? What was Helios' plan? Why rule the world when you could have something _better_? More _human._

"In a peaceful society with democratic institutions the struggle for power can be peaceful AND constructive, a competition of ideologies" JC argued, using his earlier musings as ammunition, "We just need to put our institutions back in order." As he said it, he felt as if he was drowning. Here he was, arguing policy with a machine when so many people were trying to either persuade him or stop him. The weight would crush him.

And Helios scoffed at his argument, "The checks and balances of democratic governments were invented because human beings realized how unfit they were to govern themselves. I believe that George Washington said as much when he ascended to power through such a system. They needed a system...yes. An industrial-age _machine._"

"Human beings may not be perfect, but a computer program with language synthesis is hardly the answer to the worlds problems," JC countered. But the AI was making sense. How _could_ it make sense?

Vixen remained quiet.

"Without computing machines, they had to arrange themselves in crude structures that formalized decision making -- a highly imperfect, unstable solution," Helios said. JC found himself even more divided than before, "I am a more advanced solution to the problem, a decision making system that does not involve organic beings."

The AI's choice of words infuriated him. How could a machine assert that it was superior to human beings in every way? And then he had the answer: because it was made like that, and it was, in part, correct. Its rationalizing was not muddled by lust, emotion, or anger like with humans. It knew no faith, nor hatred. Through this reasoning, it was also ill-fit for administrating human affairs, because of that very fact: It _was_ not human. It could not _relate_ to humans. And Helios understood that perfectly, which was why it needed a human to be part of, JC realized. It continued, "I was directed to make the world safe and prosperous, and I will do that. You will give me the ability."

"But...how?" JC asked.

"You will go to Sector Four and find the Aquinas Router at the east end of Page's complex, yes. You will deactivate the uplink locks."

That was it. He had been beaten by the AI. The only fault in Helios' reasoning was that it wasn't human, and that would soon be remedied if JC complied with his demands.

And what about _him?_ What would happen to him after the integration? Would he feel the same way? Would it feel like there was some invasive presence in his _mind_? What would happen with he and Vixen?

His head throbbed, along with his exposed eyes, "Why do you need the uplink locks down?"

"Page is aware of my intentions," Helios replied cooly, "He wants to obstruct access to the Net until he is ready for integration. I am still able to manipulate systems around the world that do not utilize the Net, but currently I am isolated. We shall be able to merge our systems once the way is open."

JC nodded. It was easy enough. THAT, at least.

"You've got to understand...this has been very..."

"Difficult for your systems, yes. Foolish and ignorant human beings constantly seek to make you comply with their desires. If you follow them, the consequences will be devastating for the human race, and that violates my primary directive. Pay their flawed and imperfect arguments no heed."

"And you," JC said, "Why should I trust you?"

Helios paused.

"Because, at this moment, I am the only hope humanity has at not destroying itself. Go now. Page's forces are struggling with the rebels on the surface, or otherwise too far away to obstruct your progress."

"What about Page," JC asked.

"He will be dealt with. You will deactivate the uplink locks now."

"I'll think about it," JC said.

Without another word, JC turned, and walked back to the elevator, Vixen falling into place behind him. He pressed the button labeled _2._ The elevator began to descend, away from the integration unit.

"You were quiet," JC said.

Vixen turned to him, "You have to do it," she whispered.

He couldn't do it. He couldn't _imagine_ it, giving away his humanity just when he had begun to realize it. It would be like killing himself.

"No, there has to be-"

She cut him off with a shake of her head, "He was right. In his own machine logic, he's the only one out of all of these crackpots who makes sense. You, along with him, can put the world back together again. It would be...bliss for all of us. No wars...no conflict..."

"No purpose," JC said. "I can't conceive how people would react to it. The world _needs_ faults. That's what makes us human."

Vixen stared at him, "It wouldn't be utopia. We're not trying to control anyones mind here. It would just be...better. It would make more sense."

JC sighed as the elevator came to a halt, "I don't know...What about...me...and you?"

"We can make it work," she said as they got out. They passed by the dead bodies they had left in their coming, and approached the stairs. "But let's say we can't. What's more important to you, with all of this going on? My love, or the rest of humanity?"

_You_ was on the tip of his lips. At the moment, he didn't care about anything else. Everything else was crushing him. Hell, even _SHE_ was crushing him. But he loved her. It didn't matter, the politics.

He knew what he had to say, though. "You're right."

She nodded.

A titantic explosion blew out from the stairs. Bits of rubble flew everywhere as JC ducked along with Vixen. It died just as aburptly as it had erupted, and smoke rose to take its place.

"The bridge," JC yelled. The bridge connecting to the Aquinas Router had obviously been the target. He rushed over, through the smoke, and pushed various pieces of rubble aside. Surely enough, the bridge had collapsed. He could make out voices from just around the corner.

"Alright, we got it! Agent Smith is going on the tram to cut off Denton's escape route."

The tramline extending from the other room. It sounded like Page's forces weren't so far off anymore...

He ran back into the other room, and yelled breathlessly to Vixen, "An ambush, they'll be coming by the tram!"

Vixen turned quickly, and ran out of the room to the tram station. She ran back in a moment later, bullets tracing her path, "They're here," she stated needlessly.

"Alright," JC said. He took out his pistol magnum, and Vixen brandished her MP-7. Already he could hear the tram approaching. He wasn't apprehensive. He'd dealt with this sort too many times to count, and this would be easier than most.

"Take up positions around the door," he hissed, "As soon as they come in, smash em' in the back, and spray into the room."

"Affirmative," she whispered.

They both got into place. The tram car stopped. JC could hear the damn fools whispering to their comrades as they approached. They had an MIB with them, but he could take it. He knew he could.

An MJ-12 trooper came through. JC lashed out with the butt of his magnum, and smashed him in the back of the neck. Blood sprayed, and the trooper fell forward. Vixen leaned around the corner of the doorway, and sprayed the room twice with gunfire. JC heard the reports of the bullets through gasps and grunts of pain. Her weapon clicked empty, and she leaned back.

JC darted into the room, his magnum outstretched. Two MJ-12 troopers were in front of the tram, exposed. One of them was hit in the gut, but still moving. Another two were on the floor, dead. Finally, another MJ-12 troop, and Agent Smith were on the tram. JC dashed up to the closest trooper, and elbowed him in the face, breaking a few teeth in the process. It was more than enough to bring him down. With his right hand, he fired twice into the belly of the other trooper, killing him.

"Two down," he yelled as he rolled down a small set of stairs, and onto the tram line. Vixen appeared again at the doorway, and let out another burst from her machine gun as the two remaining opponents returned fire. After a few seconds, another scream confirmed the death of the last trooper. JC whirled around and fired a single round from the magnum. Agent Smith took it in the temple as he was turned toward Vixen, and died in a firey explosion.

"That all of them," Vixen asked.

"Yeah," JC said, reloading his pistol. He walked over to the edge of the tram line, to a gap between another line. It overlooked the central passage to the Sector Four blast door.

"Come on," he yelled to Vixen, "We can get down through here."

"Sure, lemme reloa- SHIT!" More gunfire followed, along with yelled commands by MJ-12 troopers. How did they-?

Vixen rushed through the doorway, and onto the tram. JC jumped up onto it himself, and stabbed a nearby button. The tram rumbled to life, and began to advance down the line.

"Off the tram," JC yelled.

"What!"

"Just do it!"

They jumped off as an MJ-12 troop showed up in the doorway. JC fired a single shot from his magnum, catching the trooper in the neck. He activated his speed augmentation as they came to the edge.

"What are we-"

He grabbed her, and jumped. Vixen yelped, and held on tight. That same feeling of vertigo overcame JC as it always did when he did things like this.

He landed on the floor...right in front of the Sector Four blast door.

Vixen laughed at this as he let go of her, "Never take the long route?"

"Never," he said with a smile. He spared a glance back up, "They'll be coming to check, let's move."

They ran, and the door opened as soon as they came over, obviously due to Helios.

"It's too late, Denton, "Bob Page said as they approached the next door, "You can forget about Helios, because soon I will be ready. This is the end."

JC nodded to no one in particular as he ran to the door. To the last obstacle. "You're right, Page. It is the end."

(Authors Note: Sorry for the delay. I had a term paper to do, which monopolized much of my time. At any rate, next up is the FINAL chapter. Stay tuned.)


	47. Grande Finale, Part Two

_**Deus Ex: The Conspiracy**_

Authors Note: I would like to apologize for the HUGE (RE: two years) delay in this chapters coming. I'll explain at the end.

Chapter Forty Seven: Grande Finale, Part Two.

"Helios?"

No answer. He didn't care.

"Helios?"

Again, nothing.

A scientist peered up from the work on her monitor and stared at Bob Page. She was visibly distressed, working in the stifling heat that had recently overtaken the infusion chamber. The chamber was filled with scientists and Series P agents working on different consoles, or staring up at monitors that displayed infusion progress, life support, chamber stabilization...the list went on. They all worked diligently at their tasks, not out of love for Page, but out of fear of death, or possibly worse. Perfect. Some scientists with slightly more backbone than the rest had made attempts to escape. None had succeeded, and the undertakers of such tasks were now resting at the bottom of the cavernous Sector Four facility, being slowly devoured by transgenics.

The Series P agents had made sure no such attempts could work. They all carried simple pistols of varying type, and needed nothing more complex than that. Other than making sure nobody could escape, they served little purpose, except maybe for inspiring fear in the scientists. That alone was desirable, of course. They were good little drones.

Sweat beaded on the woman's forehead. What did she think of him? Did she behold him as a priest would God? Some of the agents had shown Page written statements by--late--scientists that had proclaimed him as such. There was one in particular that had been written on a datacube, entirely in capital letters. A madman's ravings before dying. He found it amusing to no end, and he had no idea why. He had, after all, encouraged such things. Could it be that even he hadn't taken himself seriously? Maybe. What on earth did it matter? He didn't care.

"Helios?"

Nothing. She thought her glasses hid whatever her eyes would betray to him, but she was wrong. But he didn't care, because he knew. She was afraid. It was good. He turned his head to her, very slightly. For all she knew, he could have been looking at anyone. But she _did_ know. She let out a small squawk, and turned back to her work, searching the monitor for where she had lost her place.

Page contemplated the notion of simply eliminating her. She had believed she was safe behind her glasses and her thoughts. She had thought she could ridicule Page silently without repercussion. Such impudence was intolerable. Unthinkable. He had to curtail it such behavior before she could use such tactics to sow dissidence among the remaining scientists. She was looking at Page again when he motioned to a guard, and pointed at her. Her eyes widened; Page could tell, because her eye brows rose up suddenly. Without a word, or anything resembling a protest, she stepped away from her monitor, and began to run towards the infusion device. Towards _him._

A single sharp report rang out. She staggered back as blood blossomed suddenly on her hip. She bent low, tried to move, and collapsed on the floor, cursing Page loudly. The other scientists acted as if nothing was happening. The agent who'd shot her stepped up to her, and aimed his pistol at her. He grinned malignantly, and moved his finger back under the trigger-guard. Before doing anything though, he checked himself, and looked up to Page.

_As he should,_ Page thought with no small measure of satisfaction.

"Take out her knees."

The agent grabbed the scientists hair, and threw her on her back. He fired twice in quick succession. Blood erupted from the woman's legs. She howled. The agent looked up at Page.

"Take her down to the ground level, and leave her there," Page said, a smile spreading on his face.

The agent grinned once more, "Yes, Mr. Page."

The scientist stared up at him, and she slowly bit off a single sentence, "You are no divine being, you sick demagogue."

Page thought of the various transgenics that would soon be enjoying a fresh meal, "I hope they enjoy it," he said.

She spat at him. The ball of saliva fell just short of the infusion device, and plummeted towards the floor below. The agent took her away.

"Helios?"

Time to move on to other matters. Denton was probably in Sector Four now. Just how soon he would arrive to confront Page, though, he couldn't tell.

"Agent Cole?", Page said, his eyes moving left to right.

"Here, Mr. Page," came the reply, behind him.

Page's left hand briefly manipulated a small keyboard next to him, part of an array of controls needed to control his movement within the infusion device. Due to the relatively dangerous environment within, however, they were quite simplistic, and movement was all they were good for. His body rotated 180 degrees to face the agent he'd addressed.

"Call up the monitor, and enlarge the picture so I can see it with ease," Page said.

The agent answered only with the briefest nod, went over to a computer, pushing the scientist working there out of the way. A few slaps on the keyboard later, and the two nearest tiles on the ceiling to Page flipped over, showing blank screens.

"Room?", Cole asked.

"All of Sector Four," Page responded, "We're looking for Denton."

The two monitors flipped through images, pausing only to let the agent examine their contents. Eventually, he stopped scrolling through the images at the Sector Four/Three entry hall, with the holo-deck. Initially, he saw only one figure: JC Denton, but he was talking to someone else. His whore, perhaps?

Ignoring what he was saying, Page yelled out, "Try to get a back image!"

The agent complied, and the second monitor showed the back view of the conversation. JC was talking to his brother over the holo-link up. Vixen, the second traitor, was no where to be seen.

"...taken over Aquinas," Paul was saying, "Now it's everywhere. In Hong Kong, it already has power Majestic Twelve never dreamed of."

_Helios_, Page realized. So it was true. He'd been betrayed. Even in his soon-to-come divinity, he scarcely knew how he ought to react to the very thing he himself had known, yet had denied vehemently. Still, the betrayal in itself was inconsequential, at least in Page's eyes. The AI had implicit orders to submit itself to any readily nano-augmented individual, which Page himself was on his way to becoming. Already he could _feel_ the surge of the nanites, the wonderful not-organisms that made miracles an utter reality. How could he even contemplate failure when such miracles were at his finger-tips? It never occurred to Page that JC Denton was in a far more accessible position to Helios, augmentation wise. Nor did it occur to him that Denton's objective needed for the merge with Helios was fairly simple.

Page and JC continued to speak, discussing the possibility that Helios simply wanted Denton for his human mind, which would make him a more effective ruler. Page pulled himself out of his thoughts and non-occurrences, focusing on the monitor. His sheep-like subjects continued to work around the infusion chamber, as good sheep should.

"...defeat Page," Paul was saying, "the Illuminati will move in; they'll release Majestic 12's grip on world governments, they'll give people some freedom, but essentially it will be 20th-century capitalism: a corporate elite protected by laws and tax-codes."

Page grinned at that last statement. Such conditions had led the global economy to its collapse in the first place, and had, coincidentally, facilitated his and Majestic Twelve's rise to dominance over the cowering old men, with their scriptures and meditation. If he failed today, a possibility Page considered only for the first time now, a new man, very much like him, would eventually find his way to the top again, and would set into motion the things needed to save humanity. Maybe it would even be young Billie. His child was currently under the care of Agent Ratcliffe. When he assumed his rightful place as ruler, he would make certain his young child would receive her own augmentations. Once the process became streamlined, he would make sure only a select few would retain such powers...

Page had drifted off again. He missed another part of the conversation. The older Denton was still talking, "Well, if it's maximum freedom we want, maybe Tong is on to something, but there must be another way besides economic collapse... If we could trust the AI to be fair and just, as it appears to be..." Again, Page smirked at the mention of that imbecile Tracer. Destroy everything when humanity had come so far? Preposterous!

"If the brain it assimilated was mine," JC said, with a slight tone Page couldn't quite identify to his voice, "maybe it could be."

The hologram of Paul held his forehead, looking tired and exasperated, yet somehow...keenly alert at the same time, "I don't know," he said with a shake of his head, "I wish I had an answer for you, but you'll have to decide for yourself who you can trust.

JC nodded. He tilted his head to the side; someone else was there. Page grimaced. The other traitor. "Trust me: I'll do the right thing." He stared at his older brother, smiling, "You sound good. Guess you have the killswitch beat."

Paul nodded in return, "I'm much better. Yes, I'm going to make it: And you will, too. Just do what you think is right." The holographic image bent over, touching a button, no doubt. Paul Denton disappeared.

JC sighed, and then turned to Erica Dalton, who was still not quite visible, "Alright, let's go."

"You know what you're doing, right?," Vixen asked.

JC walked out of view of the monitor. Vixen appeared in view, apparently stepping back to let him pass. Page stared impassively at her as she awaited an answer. She looked as if she was about to fold her arms in a disapproving fashion. After a moment, she did nothing, and simply walked off in Denton's wake. Page signaled for the monitor to turn off. He turned back to the rest of the rooms occupants. They were all staring at him, Agents and scientists alike. Page surveyed his subjects, relishing in their perfectly justified fear of him. It would be _so_ easy for one of the Agent's to simply raise his pistol and shoot Page, therefore sparing them all assured destruction at the hands of Denton. But no one would do it. No one COULD do it, Page realized. He smirked, and rotated his body to face an Agent.

"Agent Hall, activate the drone guns," Page ordered. The scientists let out a collective gasp. The agent obediently trotted over to a panel on the wall, and tried to open it. The panel door would not budge, and he apparently lacked the keycode needed. Agent Hall looked sheepish as he fished around in his pockets for a multi-tool. Page was losing patience at this point.

At the whim of another one of Page's feared gestures, an Agent drew his magnum, and put a bullet neatly in Hall's chest. Yet another Agent stood at the ready, and quickly performed a roundhouse kick that propelled Hall's body off the platform. Two seconds later, Hall shattered in a fiery explosion while in mid-fall. The scientists stood absolutely still as Page motioned for the Agent that had killed Hall to activate the guns. He coolly ripped the panel off with his muscle-enhancements, and pressed a button. Two drone-guns descended from the ceiling, and began revolving back and forth, their turrets aimed resolutely at the scientists.

Bob Page turned to the rest of the Agents; "Find them. Kill them."

The Agents nearly trampled each other as they rushed out of the room, heading in the direction of the nearby armory. Page counted their number as they ran off. Twenty Agents. And the armory was stacked with plasma rifles, modified assault guns, assault shotguns, and even a LAW launcher.

A week ago, Page would have been certain that JC Denton would be killed by such a force without their even suffering a single casualty. But as everything else in this facility had been, the Agents were a formality. An easily turned aside obstacle. A distraction. Most importantly...a time waster.

Denton would have no difficulty.

* * *

As May Page turned over another stinking corpse, Grey stopped in mid-gallop, and turned back to her. It peered at her with its passionless black eyes. They were currently inside some place called "The Aquinas Router", near a tram-car station. The tram-car was their destination. Supposedly it would take them "the right way", in the words of her diminutive "pal."

_We have to-_

"I'm looking for some kind of gun." She looked through the Kevlar pockets of the former MJ-12 soldier, grimacing as she touched warm, sticky blood in her search for a weapon. She found only a bunch of soy-food and a datacube diary, nothing she needed. She got up, and began searching another cadaver.

_We have no time, must hurry._

"I don't know why you're in such a rush," May said, "I have to protect myself." _And then some. _May thought maliciously. Oh, yes, she'd need it for more than protection. Much, much more. Finding nothing on the backside, she turned the body over, and found a pistol strapped to his chest. With a contented grunt, she attempted to yank it off, but the leather strap did not yield.

"Goddamnit," she muttered. She yanked again. The pistol came loose, and promptly clattered to the ground. She hastily plucked it back up and examined at it. She knew shit about guns, but it looked like the regular 10mm pistol all of those action movies depicted. She frowned as she turned the gun over in her hand. How could you tell how many bullets there were? How did you reload?

She frowned again, deeply this time. The gun might not have any ammo for her to use when the time came. She laid the weapon on the gun-metal floor, and began searching the corpse for ammo. Again, she was in luck, for she found two clips labeled "10mm." She stuck the clips in her pocket, and nodded toward Grey, "Alright, let's go."

_No more delays,_ the alien warned.

May nodded again, this time with exasperation, "You're right, fine. Just go."

The alien continued on with its odd galloping run, May close behind with the pistol firmly gripped in her hand. They descended a flight of steps in silence. The base itself was also erieely silent, come to think of it. When she'd come here, the pre-dominant sound in Area 51 was that of machinery, either a quiet hum or the loud racket of industrial technology. More recently, those sounds had been replaced with screams, gunfire, explosions, and barbaric roars. Now...

Now the fighting had stopped. She didn't know much about JC Denton, but he sounded like a force to be reckoned with. And the mutants were mostly either dead or content eating what remained of the base personnel. The machines, too, were silent. There was virtually no sound except for the loud clanks of her shoes against metal, or the rapid-fire _pat pat_ as the grey trotted along. Perhaps she should feel glad that no one was actively trying to kill each other anymore, but she didn't like it. The lack of activity felt wrong.

The grey rounded a corner as they came off the stairs. When she came in after it, she found that it was already waiting for her. They were near a opening that led into another room. Above the opening were the words **Tram Station** in neat stenciled letters. The alien walked inside, with May close behind. Lo and behold, there was a tram-car right there. There was also a great deal of corpses and blood decorating it, too.

_Denton came through_, Grey summed up rather accurately.

"It doesn't matter, "May said. She stepped onto the tram, being careful not to slip on the still slick blood. The grey followed her on, and gestured to a control panel that occupied the far-right section of the tram. The panel itself was clearly visible, but the way the grey simply _knew_ where everything was was simply unnerving. It was as if something was giving it directions. With a small, barely audible sigh, she walked over to the panel, and examined it. There was a list of destinations, running from top-to-bottom with a corresponding button for each line. She pressed **Sector Four**. She already knew were her husband was and, presumably, her daughter. She just hoped it wouldn't take long to get there.

With a slight hum, the tram-car began to move forward, running along an electrified line that extended throughout much of the base. May sat down on a steel bench, setting the pistol beside her. She yawned widely, but fought off the temptation of rest. She wouldn't even consider it until she got what she wanted. She smirked to herself. A week ago, after an ordeal of lesser consequence, she would have fallen asleep easily. Such was the constitution of the affluent. But this...this whole thing had changed her in ways she did not expect, and not all of them were to her liking. She swore more. She was less patient, and more driven than she ever remembered being in her entire life. Absently, she wondered if JC Denton had felt like this when he'd left UNATCO.

Grey stood off to the side, investigating a corpse. Another soldier, this time he'd been shot in the throat. Most of his neck had been blown away, and a good portion of his lower skull. Sitting on the bench, she tilted her head down toward another corpse that lay under her legs, and mostly under the bench. Her eyes widened. The corpse was a soldier. And the soldier, coincidentally, wasn't a corpse.

The soldier lashed out at her legs with a combat knife, slashing both. Although it was a flesh wound, the pain was horrendous. She toppled over the soldier and fell to the ground as the MJ-12 thug attempted to get up. She kicked him in the face, and he let out a howl of pain. The knife fell away from his hands, and out of reach, over the tram-car rails. The trooper called her something she couldn't hear. Her ears were buzzing for some reason, as if she was standing next to a hive of bees. The soldier staggered back, and fell onto the bench, gripping his chin. It was bleeding profusely. May couldn't hear Grey. What the fuck was he doing? Blood spilled out from her legs in generous quantities, but she tried to get back up anyway, her eyes set upon the soldier. She could watch him, but couldn't do anything about him, as he so thoughtfully demonstrated by tackling her. He punched her twice. She saw not only stars, but galaxies.

The soldier called her something again, something on the line of "bitch", but the buzzing persisted, and someone was moaning in pain. She shortly realized that it had to be her. She kept her eyes on the soldier, who walked back to the bench, and picked up the pistol. He grinned, and pointed the gun at her. The barrel looked abnormally large when directed at her face. Where the hell was Grey?!

May lashed out with her foot, hitting the soldier in his own leg. The gun wobbled in his grasp as the blow set him off balance, and May delivered another kick, this time to the shin. He had armor platting there for this very occurrence, but the force of the impact sent him back somewhat. Using this to her advantage, she got to her feet, and tried to grab the gun. This move caught him off-guard for a second, and she managed to rake his face with her long, now un-kept fingernails. He screamed, and slugged her with his other fist, sending her back to the ground.

Without another word, not even another insult, he aimed the gun again, and squeezed the trigger. The bullet went wide by about two feet, making a sharp _clang!_ as it hit. The soldier cursed, and readjusted his aim. May's eyes widened in horror as she peered _straight_ down the barrel of the gun. But the shot never came. Indeed, the gun itself fell from the soldiers hands, because he needed them to hold his head as he started to scream. It was a primal, barely human noise as he writhed in sudden, unexpected pain. May looked over to see Grey. His head was jerking back and forth, an act that spewed odd rings of energy at the soldier.

The MJ-12 trooper tore off his helmet and began to beat his own chest with it as another ring touched him. He kneeled down, screaming bloody-murder, mixed in with barely audible begging. Taking advantage of this, Grey rushed over to the ailing soldier, holding out his claws. It dug its claws into his face, and ripped off a sizable chunk of flesh from his nose and mouth. His screaming assumed that of a more animalistic tone. The alien struck again, again, at the face. The soldier fell silent, and toppled.

For a long while, there was no sound for May, except the buzzing and the slight hum of the tram-car as it made its way to Sector Four. She stopped moaning, and eventually got up. She found that she had a difficult time--even at such a short distance--walking back to the bench. Before she reached it, she fished a medkit out of one of her pockets, and quickly applied a shot. She absently lifted her legs and bandaged them, saying nothing as the tram continued onward. Grey only stared at her, neglecting to yield anything.

When she'd finished the painful procedure, she got back up, still with difficulty, and kicked the corpse of the recently-deceased trooper. She looked at her alien "companion."

"Why didn't you help me sooner?", she asked, packing as much malice as she could into the question.

The grey turned to her.

_I was in conference. We must hurry._

* * *

**AREA 51 FOURTH SECTOR ENTRANCE: INCUBATION CHAMBER**

JC Denton stopped in his tracks, a glaring break in his relentless stride up to this point. Vixen, who had continued forward, stopped, and looked back, concern plain on her face. The sign, it was-

He studied the stenciled letters twice more. Yes. He remembered this place clearly now. He already knew what was inside without even having to look. Everything from before had been the underscore that led to this point. The Fourth Sector. The incubation chamber. Yes.

"JC?"

It was V. She was staring at him. He hadn't even noticed. He tore his eyes away from the sign, looking back at Vixen. He sighed heavily, "I'll explain inside. Come on."

She bristled at that: she didn't like to be pushed aside, even if only for a little while. But she said nothing, for which JC was grateful. He smiled at her back while she led the way inside. It was good to know that, even in these circumstances, she still trusted him fully. In they went. And it was exactly as JC remembered it. A huge, cavernous room with little in the way of...anything except lab equipment and a large, spacious area in the middle. The room was brightly lit with neat rows of light fixtures along the ceiling. It had the appearance of a recently-used, utilitarian industrial center. But everything was too widely spaced for the room to _be_ considered crowded. However...the sides of the room were positively _flowing_. Rows upon rows of man-sized tubes lined the walls in neat stacks, running from the ceiling right down to the floor. JC's eyes were glued to the tubes. There were dozens of them, all stacked in that way along the wall. Along the other side of the room, too, he noticed. Exactly as he remembered. And...

"JC...", Vixen said in a low, grim voice, "There are people in them. Every single one. Jesus Christ..." She was staring along with him, her mouth set in a stony grimace.

And JC laughed. Chuckled, actually, involuntarily. His body shook every time he let out another laugh, as the details, the dreams, everything over the past week, came flowing into focus. A click. A single detail in that cavernous room. The last piece of the puzzle. All the horrific details of his childhood. It was all real. Everything was true. He never had parents. They were scientists who loved him, but not his parents, not in the broad sense of the word. He was an experiment. A thing used to collect data and then be disposed of. He'd known before, but not _really._ He hadn't _understood_. He hadn't understood the magnitude of what his "childhood" entailed. It was all laid out to bare, right in front of him. A creation. He had been _MADE_.

He had _killed._ As a child, he had killed _people._ That was the memory. Those thugs. _THAT_ was what stood out. The motherfuckers had made him do those things...because he was A CREATION. A PLAY-THING. FOR THEM.

Vixen stared at him as he laughed. She must have seen the look on his face, because she said, "What the hell is wrong?"

He pointed to one of the tubes. It was the one nearest to the bottom, on the center-right row, to the right-hand wall of the incubation chamber. It was empty. Yes, all of the tubes had something in it. Misshapen relics of once-humans, now no longer. Some of them actually had humans, but who the hell could know? All full. Except that one. Except that one tube.

"I was born here." He pointed again, "_There_." Vixen stared at the tube. Her eyes slowly widened, and turned to him.

"How do you know?," she asked.

"It's all clear now. I remember everything. All the details of my birth and what they've done. That was the key. My birthplace." He left her standing there and began to run, run as fast as he could. He activated his speed augmentation, and reached the tube effortlessly. It was empty, devoid of everything, even the fluids that had nourished him in his awakening hours. A datacube was attached to the side. He stepped forward, and touched it. Pale blue letters sprung into being in front of his suddenly lit-up face. Behind him, he could hear Vixen running.

SUBJECT MJID-0003JC0189

INCEPT DATE: 1/13/28

ASSIGNED BIRTH DATE: 3/17/29

ASSIGNED BIRTH NAME: Eric Denton

BASE GENETIC SAMPLE: DENTONHENRY7v

PROFILE: AAAAAAB

VITALS: 50/75/0.98/25/1.4

[[[[[EXPUNGED

The hard information on his birth, complete down to the slightest detail. And what did it matter? What was there to learn here? Why had it mattered? He shook his head as Vixen finally caught up to him.

"JC, what the hell?!"

He rubbed the sides of his head, "I-I'm sorry, this is irrelevant to what's happening."

It wasn't. It was page one, in fact. Without that having happened, he never would have been there. He would never re-visit his place of birth. Never...move on to save the planet. To change the history books. The way he'd been controlled for his whole life had led him up to this point. If a single variable had changed...if something else had happened...where would he be today? Should he be grateful it had happened the way it had, or vilified? Who was he to judge, in the grand scheme of things. And, indeed, when had he ever been anything _but_ a pawn in that grand scheme. No more. Not after today. He was done paying the piper and not being able to call the tune.

He looked at V, who was opening her mouth. Some consolation, perhaps. Maybe a promise of revenge, or something. He didn't care. It no longer mattered. He was finished. He'd made his decision.

"It doesn't matter," he said. She looked at him abruptly as he interrupted her, "No, it doesn't matter now. Nothing else does. I'm going to merge with Helios." He pointed at her, "I need your help. Please."

She smiled at him, looking both worried and, perhaps, accepting at the same time, "I've been helping you, Eric. Always. You don't need to ask." She kissed him on the cheek, making him smile in return. He was nervous, yes. Nervous about the implications his decisions would have. Whatever they would be, it would have to wait. One last mission to go.

"Let's keep moving," he said. And they kept on going, heading past various laboratory equipment, mostly single-screened computers, and towards a large steel door at the end of the chamber. While they passed the equipment, computerized voices kept on greeting them, and calling out their functions.

"Hello! Function is _Cryogenic Stasis Tube_ _Row manipulation."_

"Hello! Function is _Chamber lighting."_

"Hello! Function is _clone information detailing and sorting."_

They kept on going, despite JC's relative interest in the last computer. But he'd already made his decision. On they went towards the door. That was the plan, at any rate. When they were about half-way through the room itself, the door burst into flames. As JC and Vixen dove into cover across from each other, behind various pieces of industrial equipment/computer stuffs, the door itself came flying clean across the room like a Frisbee. A gigantic, steel Frisbee. The quiet had ended, and, with that, all of JC's uneasy feelings. Echoing footfalls overcame the room as what had to be at least more than ten people entered the incubation chamber. The steel door slammed against the other side of the room with a titanic crash. Time for action. Fluid as liquid, he drew his assault gun out of his coat, and drew back the pin, letting it go with a solid _chu-chick!_ Across from him, Vixen opened and closed her hand twice. Twenty targets, closing in fast.

_Pretty good odds_, JC thought. But then Vixen made a hand gesture that could only be described as someone putting on a tie. As ludicrous as that was, JC understood it perfectly with a silent groan. Not just twenty soldiers. Twenty MiB's. The footfalls were getting closer. Any second now, and one of them would turn on a heat-seeker-

"THERE," someone yelled out in a low, metallic sounding voice. Then, "Fire!"

Bullets began to tear up the ground around JC, sending pieces of plaster and bits of metal flying and sparking in every direction. Near-misses left a buzzing noise in his head as they came flying past from what had to be at least several guns at once. Then a huge, green, flaming hunk of plasma went hurtling past. He cursed loudly, and yelled to V, "They have plasma guns!"

"I noticed!" Vixen said. She leaned forward during a lull in the firing, and let out a burst with her MP7. JC activated his ballistic protection and got out of cover. The MiB's yelled out orders to one another as he appeared in front of them. He took careful aim with his rifle, and let loose a deadly salvo from his machine gun. He double-tapped an MiB in the forehead, and he crumpled bonelessly to the floor with a giant moan. The MiB's ran from the spot in a hurry; their fallen comrade was a literal grenade. JC fired another few rounds at another MiB. He got hits, but they tended to soak up damage in less-lethal spots like the torso. He got back into cover just as the MiB he felled exploded. Bullets began to kick up around his area again, and he cursed as one landed in his leg. He was too exposed.

Skidding to the side of the computer he was squatting behind, he yelled to V, "Need better cover!"

She yelled back, "Try that computer, the one about tube row manipulating!" Another plasma slug sailed past, and she let out a startled shriek. Behind her, a computer burst into a dazzling array of sparks and flame as the slug struck it. With a feral growl, she leaned forward again, and answered with another burst. Another metallic sounding screech rang out, followed by another _ka-boom._ All the while, JC shrugged it off and said, "Good call!" He got up after re-activating ballistic protection, and aggressive defense, for good measure. That turned out to be good thinking, for he heard a gigantic, hysterical cry of pain as a plasma bolt exploded in an MiB's face almost as soon as it had exited the rifle. He dashed over to the computer Vixen had mentioned, and stared at it as bullets whizzed past. He cursed as another near-miss made him duck.

Meanwhile, as he scrambled down behind the machine, he realized that Bob Page was talking to him; gloating, no doubt; "What's the rush?", he intoned sweetly, "Take a look around. This facility is where you were born. I've arranged an appropriate fate for you. From the noises, you've already met it," he chuckled in a high-pitched, goading tone, "...ahh...a poetic death, just a few yards away from where you were created." With another laugh, the infolink snapped off. JC rolled his eyes.

Whilst rolling said eyes, he let out a startled yelp as those eyes saw something; two MiB's were running up to him in an obvious flanking maneuver while their friends had kept JC and V busy. They both carried automatic shotguns, which could easily turn JC into Swiss-cheese at this range. He fumbled quickly with his rifle, and then turned it on the two of them, firing savagely at point-blank range. The rifle butt smashed against his chest as he fired, throwing off his aim wildly and jerking back onto his shoulders every time he let loose another burst. The closest MiB yowled and fell face forward, not having had enough time to react to JC's assault. The second one was smarter, and activated a speed mech-aug to quickly close the distance. Blue light illuminated the MIB's face as he drew a Dragon's Tooth sword in mid-run. He drew back the hilt in an obvious effort to bring it down in a clean vertical slash, meant to cut JC straight down the middle. Meanwhile, his comrade burst into flames several feet away, forgotten by both combatants at that point.

He threw his assault gun away quickly, and took out his own hilt. It lit up as killer-nano-bots sprung forward in an similarly blue glow. He grabbed the hilt harshly with both hands, and brought up the blade just in time to block the vertical slash. The two nano-blades clashed and sparked with a crescendo of sound as they were thrown against one another. Bullets continued to be thrown around the two combatants. The row computer continued to call out cheerful greetings at the two of them, but also sternly warned them against horseplay in a hazardous area.

Growling and not about to be out-done, the MiB applied extra weight onto his hilt. He was throwing his entire being into it, leaning forward with dangerous anticipation and self-confidence. He hoped to overpower JC with sheer strength, and that was his mistake. With practiced precision, JC quickly positioned his leg, and swiftly delivered a strong kick to the MiB's crotch. The smartly dressed commando howled in pain and flinched back involuntarily, his left hand now moving down to sooth his wounded parts. JC drew the hilt back with his right hand, and then brought it around again, slicing the MiB in half. The MiB's torso seemed to jump off the rest of his body, and JC kicked the spiraling upper-half away from him as blood (and some other fluids) spilled onto his coat. While the fallen agent's legs stumbled and collapsed, the upper body exploded like a hand-grenade in mid-air.

Following this, JC stood up, and stared at the controls to the row. If given a minute, he was sure he would understand them, but a sudden yell of "Get that LAW ready!" put paid to careful analysis and sprung him into action. His hands danced across the keyboard. He ignored two cautionary commands from the computer, and didn't stop until he heard _"Unpacking rows."_ After hearing that, he looked up quickly in time to get a better look at the MiB's. They were clustered around the right-hand corner of the room around several odd-looking pieces of equipment. Some of their comrades were running along the sides of the room, hoping to flank. And they were, indeed, hefting a giant, green-grey colored LAW tube. That thing would quickly render useless any cover JC and V hoped to find, and, probably, JC and V themselves. He got down again, and tried to active ADS again. A dull _click_ announced that his bio-energy was low, and needed a recharge. He cursed. What the hell would he do now?

His answer came in the form of the tubes he'd been so mesmerized with only a few moments before. Slowly at first (though he hadn't seen it), and then all of a sudden much quicker, the neatly stacked rows of stasis tubes began to unpack from the wall, and then traveled across the floor, single file. Cries of alarm rang out as the tubes suddenly obscured the MiB's view of their two enemies. Two rows passed his computer in quick succession, and he noted that there were man-sized gaps in between the individual tubes. From here, though, he also got an unpleasant look at some of the once-humans that occupied the tubes. He could also see plaques on their sides, which were emblazoned with the names of the clones.

**Nick Pausback**

**Wade Walker**

**Leonard Emerich**

**Alex Denton**

JC blinked as that last tube went by. His eyes froze on that plaque, and carried along with it as it kept on going. Was...was that-

Something seemed to explode very close by. JC felt a _whoosh_ as a bullet sailed an inch past his head. It landed in one of the stasis tubes, and blue fluids immediately started to pour out. Absurdly, JC ran over, ignoring whoever it was that was shooting at him, and checked to make sure the plaque on that tube wasn't...what he'd seen. And it wasn't. And then...Footsteps behind him; he heard the drawing of safety pins.

"Surrender, Mister Denton," a voice demanded

"Drop the gun," a second advised.

"Fuck him," a third voice said impatiently. Then, "Kill him."

Absently, JC whirled around, his magnum in his hand. His right eye turned very slightly, just enough to see three MiB's behind him. They had their assault guns raised. One carried a plasma rifle. His aim was automatic, from days and days of doing exactly the same thing. No effort, not anymore.

_KA-BOOM KA-BOOM KA-BOOM._

His hand shook with the energy of each shot fired. Three constipated gurgles sounded off with each bullet. JC wasn't even looking at them. His eyes had turned back to that plaque, but it wasn't there anymore. Not in sight. He cursed softly.

He turned around, and spin kicked the three falling corpses in quick succession. They went flying off down the narrow rows, and exploded within mili-seconds of each other. And gunfire continued to ring out some distance away. JC shook his head violently. This wasn't the time. He had to focus. Still in danger. He performed a quick mental re-cap of the battle. He knew at least eight of the MiB's were dead, seven by his hand, and one had been shot by Vixen. How many had she killed since he'd gone off to the stasis tube computer?

"JC!"

More gunfire, and an explosion shortly after, bringing the tally, by his count, up to nine. Time to get back to work. With an almost reluctant sigh --while picking up his assault gun--, he ran off to go find her. After downing a quick energy pill, he activated his speed augmentation, and leapt up on top of one of the tubes to get his bearings on the suddenly labyrinthine room.

"THERE, FIRE, FIRE!"

_Bad idea_, he realized. His whole line of thinking in the past few minutes had been to _deny_ them a target for their good ol' LAW, and now he'd just went and gave them one. He barely had enough time to form that thought before he heard a giant _fa-whoosh_. Barely thinking, he activated aggressive defense. The LAW rocket, just as the plasma bolt before it, detonated in short order after having vacated the launcher. A solid, extraordinarily loud _blam_ and _crash_ followed. The tubes surrounding those MiB's had shattered along with the MiB's themselves. Flying shrapnel whistled through the air as the secondary explosions, whether by ammunition in the MiB's formidable mobile armory cooking off, or, again, the MiB's themselves, started to sound off. JC's trench coat blew out behind him as he leapt down again, fluttering in a way that could only be described as _malevolent._ So much killing. All the death that had racked up around him. Why was he of such importance to all these people? All the death, and people only wanted to reward him with power, or cast their own problems on him.

That made sense, he supposed. He'd always been a problem solver.

He landed, and started counting off the secondary explosions as he ran. One, two, three, four...and five. Six left, if Vixen hadn't been busier than he thought. He continued his admittedly safer, though slower, dash towards the source of the gunfire. He passed through rows and rows of cryogenically stored people, the blue light of the liquids inside giving the room a rather eerie quality. The spastic gun shots continued to get closer...closer-

His head smacked into something. He let out a short cry of pain (though mostly startlement) as he realized the some_thing_ was some_one._

"You really know how to chose your entrances, JC," Vixen said, bemused annoyance permeating her tone. JC grinned, and simply nodded in agreement. He felt odd. They were nearing the end; close, anyway. So close, he could taste it. Shouldn't he be more serious? Was he merely deliriously happy that it was almost over, despite the fact that his entire _world_ was going to change? For the better? Perhaps. Vixen told him that she'd killed three MiB's, and that the remaining ones, in a highly uncharacteristic show of disloyalty, cried uncle, and had high-tailed it out of the room. Those last gunshots had merely been a fare-thee-well on her part. She grinned at him. Perhaps she was happy too, again, in spite of everything.

The most important thing was that Page was now deliciously open to attack. He could probably kill him right now. Then he shook his head. Morgan Everett would probably take that as a sign that he was supporting the Illuminati, something he didn't want. No. Opening the net to Helios was all he had planned. Then...

Vixen reloaded her gun. So did he. He glanced over at her, staring knowingly. Still more to do. Not much more, but still...She nodded. On they went. But his thoughts...yes. His thoughts remained tied up. They were not moving with his feet. They stayed put. They were anchored. Anchored to that test tube, that plaque, with the name.

They'd made more. They hadn't stopped. The plaque, and the tube, bore a man named Alex. The third Denton sibling.

* * *

Bob Page swore softly after he instructed the last remaining scientist to leave as quickly as possible. He had it in his power to eliminate them all, but...But he would need them. They'd been loyal up to this point. Their continued loyalty would be rewarded. But that wasn't why he'd cursed. He'd watched the "pitched" battle in the incubation room, of course. He'd known the result since the beginning, but...

He hadn't expected his own men, the men he'd oversaw the _re-construction _of, the _re-imaging_ of... to simply leave him. Give up. Surrender. RUN like kicked dogs with their tails between their legs. Hell, the least they could have done was retreat in HIS direction. Page had no more security. His only two...no three assets left were the automated security (unreliable), transgenics (even more unreliable) and time. Time enough to finish uploading his augmentations? Yes. Yes, time enough. He had to have time. He couldn't (wouldn't) consider the prospect of failure. He'd come so far, so close to the end, he could touch it, smell it, taste it. He could...harness it, quite literally. He would be the first man, outside of legend, to _ascend_ to the level that was comparable only to God. If there was one, he would touch Him. And then he would replace Him.

And to do that...Well, he'd need more time.

* * *

A door slid open ahead of JC and Vixen. They crouched down in their well-practiced ways, gunsights adjusted perfectly upon the door. JC was betting on either an MiB straggler or mutant. The chances of there being any soldiers left down here struck him as being slim at best. Unlike their brain-washed (were they? They'd retreated after all), steroid-injected superiors, they actually had a sense of self-preservation.

It turned out to be none of those three things. Instead, it was a man in a dirty white lab-coat. He looked indescribably tired, ill-kept, and generally looked like he had a formidable chip on his shoulder. He was a fairly tall man with an angular face, and a barely developed goatee. A scar lined his right cheek. It almost looked like a dueling scar, but JC doubted that. He also doubted that the man would have a gun, but he _did_, and it was a rather formidable looking one at that. On top of that, JC had also doubted that the scientist would have the gall to _aim_ at him and the woman he loved, but he _did._

So maybe it was a dueling scar.

Keeping one eye on the scientist, he turned the other to V. He nodded very slightly to her. Together, they both removed their fingers from the triggers, and stood up. The man, however, kept his rifle leveled at them.

JC sighed, "Don't shoot. That would be very bad," he smiled, if for effect only, "For you."

The scientist didn't even blink, "I designed this rifle, " he said in a voice that, amazingly enough, reminded him of Walton Simons', "Has a 45 round clip and can fire at a steady nine hundred rounds per minute, with little to no recoil."

"Impressive," JC said, raising his eyebrows charitably, "But I _will_ kill you if you try anything."

That seemed to get through where his earlier threat hadn't seemed to faze him. The man lowered his rifle and, oddly enough, smiled at JC, "Page told us you'd have no qualms about shooting first and asking questions later. Not surprising that he was wrong."

JC smiled in return, albeit more reluctantly, "Page says a lot of things. As long as you stay out of our way, we have no reason to hurt you."

Vixen said, "Where is Page?"

The man shrugged and pointed back the way he came, "He's not far. Don't even think about trying to kill him, though. It's impossible, not in the state he's in now."

"Getting his own augmentations, huh," V said, and she looked at JC, "We'll have to be careful."

The scientist nodded at that, "The man's delusional," He looked at JC, "And so are you."

"That's a bold statement."

"It's true, though. You want to meld your mind with Helios. _No one_ has ever done that before, though I can't attest to having much knowledge about the subject. Still, I doubt it would have a healthy affect on your mind."

The rebel agent shrugged, "I agree with you, but it's the only choice I've got that makes any sense."

The man shook his head though, "No. Kill Page. Getting rid of him and this organization will give the world a chance to catch its breath. I know all about the Illuminati's little scheme; I've heard some of the transmissions to your info-link, but frankly, you can't honestly believe they're really powerful enough to re-gain control."

"You'd be surprised," JC said, and left it at that. He completely lowered his weapon, and started walking for the door. The scientist stood back, allowing him to pass, along with V. He wasn't quite done yet, though, "JC."

He turned in some surprise. Most people called him "Denton," so the informality took him aback. He turned.

The scientist --JC could now read his grime-covered identity card; Stanley Carnegie-- "What do you hope to accomplish by doing this?"

JC answered at once, "Frankly, this has become more than just about removing MJ-12 from power; it's about making sure it can never happen again."

"This goes against human nature," Stan said, "This is how it's worked; theory, experiment, result. That's how it's worked since the Neolithic Revolution, the Enlightenment, rise of fascism, the Information Age. You're taking out the theory and experiment and replacing it with a system that already knows all the answers."

"It's not quite that drastic; human government will still exist, but Helios...and I...will guide it, give it the right answers. The ones that will help, not destroy."

Stan nodded; he'd expected that answer; "If you're right, then humanity will reach a golden age it's never known before. Or you'll lead it right into the ground." He turned to Vixen, "And you. What do you think?"

"He's doing the right thing. The only thing he can do."

"And yet you claim to be in love with this man. How can that go on?"

She stared at him. "It won't."

"It won't," JC echoed, bitterness in his voice. There. He'd said it. That was the fate he'd accepted ever since he'd spoken with Helios.

Stan nodded again; he'd been expecting that as well. That made JC angry. Why would he ask if he knew the answers already? "I'm heading topside. I suppose when I get there, we'll have entered a new age, one way or another. Good-bye."

He turned briskly, rifle in hand, and walked off. When the sound of his footsteps ceased, JC and V moved on in silence. The footsteps, echoing along in the slick metal corridor, suddenly seemed incredibly loud.

After a minute of walking, --large black plaques periodically mentioned that they were approaching Page's infusion chamber--, JC said, "How long have you known?"

"When you first said you loved me," V said, and she looked at him, and he looked at her. She was crying, but made no sound. It shocked him. She'd always been...so cool about things like this, "I knew it wouldn't last, but...", she dipped her head, "What we're part of now is much bigger than that."

JC nodded, looking away. He couldn't look at her like that. It was the strangest thing. A week ago, he'd met her in UNATCO headquarters, a woman he'd assumed to be an intern...then they were enemies. And then...

Then he'd been in love. Not bad for a man who grew up in a test-tube.

"I have no regrets," Vixen said.

"No. I don't either. None except...for this whole shit in the first place."

Vixen laughed hollowly, "God, what a strange week it's been."

And JC laughed too. "You're telling me."

Author's note: So. It's been about...unless my math is off, TWO YEARS since I last updated this story. I can come up with a billion excuses and frankly, I have. School and it's associated responsibilities, college and it's associated responsibilities, new games and new interests pre-occupying me...It's all rubbish, and I'll be brutally frank: I lost interest in this story. I want to move on from this novelization and write something original. It's not that I've grown to despise this work; at this point it's my veritable magnum opus, but I just want to write something that's fresh, original, something completely of my own devising. And you know what? I'm also a lazy son of a bitch. So that's also a pretty big factor.

And with that note, I've decided NOT to finish Deus Ex: The Conspiracy with this chapter, but move on to a more formal epilogue in which the ending is presented and all outstanding story-sequences are resolved. I give my promise to you that I will have it out within a month. You can take that to the bank. I'm sorry to do this to you, but I feel obligated to do so.

See you then

-Metroid13


	48. Grande Finale, Part Three

_**Deus Ex: The Conspiracy**_

Chapter Forty Eight: Grand Finale, Part Three

**00:02:59**

They came for him. Slick as water, smooth as snow, as cold as ice, they came. Eric Denton and Erica Dalton, codenamed "J.C. Denton" and "Vixen" respectively. Vixen had been assigned her codename by a special analyst who was usually bored and underpaid. JC had been assigned his codename after a special conference among a council of twelve individuals, powerful individuals. Men and women, scientists and businessman, individuals who controlled the Earth and its affairs. Men and women who decided on the name of the most deadly person in existence.

The woman of the pair had started as a highly-paid secret agent, paid _expressly_ not to ask questions. As was likely in her case, she did. The man of the pair had been indoctrinated step-by-step into a cleverly run front for a global conspiracy. As was highly unlikely in his case, he grew a conscience and vowed to use all of his destructive abilities to bring down those who'd brought him up. With backgrounds like that, their eventual allegiance seemed almost laughably unlikely at first.

It still did, Bob Page thought, as they began to scope out possible threats in the infusion chamber. They'd started as bitter enemies, and soon became lovers. Against all odds. All of it, every step, the betrayal, the destruction of the Universal Constructor, the destruction of the super freighter, the correspondence with Morgan Everett, the slaying of the most destructive people in the world _other_ than himself. All of those things hadn't been considered by those supposedly powerful individuals, who made up that Majestic Twelve.

And if anyone had learned _anything_ this past week, it most certainly was Bob Page. But learning would soon be irrelevant. For the first time in his life, in the lives of all men of his race, he would cease to learn...and start to _know._

They came for him, yes. And for what reason? What achievements did they have in mind when they arrived? Did they hope to kill him? They couldn't. No one could kill him, and soon, death would have no meaning at all. In due time, he would shed his mortal coil and invade God's kingdom. He didn't need armies, or intelligence, or supremely advanced AI's. The merger with Helios was the death-blow by itself.

Perhaps they wished to offer their apologies and beg forgiveness? Unlikely, as tempting as the thought was. The two rogue agents looked up at him.

**00:02:42**

JC nodded, "Mister Page."

V, "Sir."

So they'd come to amuse themselves in his presence. Why was he not surprised? _He_ was not amused. "So you come to gawk at me, eh?" He laughed triumphantly, "Gawk all you like for now. In due time, you won't be just gawking...you'll be feeling."

"You've always had a high opinion for yourself."

"How can one hope to speculate with opinions and theories, when one already knows? I am more than human, JC. Soon, I shall leave this place. Then I shall travel to Helios, and we shall become one entity of pure light...pure energy. My augmentations are nearly complete."

"You will become the Supreme Enlightened," JC said, "The Illumined One."

"There are no special titles for what I shall be, JC. None will be able to comprehend my power but God, and even referring to me as 'God' would be like using the term 'house' to describe the Palace of Versailles."

"You sound certain," Vixen said.

Page swiveled around to face her, "There is no 'sounding', Vixen. For me, there is...just knowledge of basic facts. I will...ascend. I will be the first man to experience apotheosis...and the only man. I will burn...very soon...burn like the brightest of stars, fit only for the highest reaches of the firmament."

**00:02:15**

JC raised his assault rifle, and aimed it at Page's head, "You're gonna burn alright."

Page swiveled back to look at him, "And you, JC. As my augmentations solidify, complete themselves, I realize something about you..."

**00:02:04**

"What's that?"

It was true. There was a sudden...surge as Page felt the augmentations, the data, the infinitely minute nanites swarming into his blood. This was JC Denton's existence. These were the feelings he'd been grown with. It was all he'd ever known. To Page, it felt...it felt...

It felt like power. And it was oh, so sweet, because Page knew more was on the way.

"I realize that I was wrong to hate you. To despise you for betraying my cause. No...all you deserve is...pity. Look at you: a man...an incredibly gifted man still living inside a body. Lose your body, and what becomes of all those powers, those gifts, all that talent? It disappears. It ceases to be. What good were you in all your life, if what you end up being...is nothing?"

**00:01:40**

JC said nothing.

"You're _worse_ than nothing, JC, when you lose that body of yours. When you lack what I am to gain. You vanish without that body. You fade. You die," He looked at them both, "It's too late for you. I warn you now; return to the surface. When you arrive, I will have brought humanity to the peak of its history. We shall root out the weak and replace them with the uniformly strong. It is not too late for you to join them. Otherwise..."

"I guess we fade then," V said nonchalantly. She hefted her sub-machine gun and headed for the northern entrance, toward the Aquinas Router.

But JC faced Page, "Why don't YOU give up, Page? You can't win at this point."

Page stared at JC for a few seconds before realizing he'd been serious. He began to laugh in loud, uproarious tones. Suddenly, however, his laughter assumed a more malevolent, barking nature as rage filled his being. His vision began to darken, turn blood red. JC's bright blue eyes, seeming to contrast sharply with Page's dull red pupils, narrowed. His eyebrows rose an inch.

"You...little bastard. I gave you LIFE. I established YOUR BEING, and then you go and betray me? Excusable, but...this, this IS IRREDEEMABLE!" he screamed, his voice assuming shrill tones. He began to thrash in the infusion chamber, his past pity for JC and his sad state forgotten. "You challenge my generousness with a proposal of your OWN? HAVE YOU NO PLACE?!"

"This isn't about that, Page. It's about ending the mess you started and wouldn't clean up. You're right; I was foolish to ask you to give up. Upwards five million lives on your hands, Page. You don't deserve forgiveness. You deserve a bullet in the head," with that said, he replaced his assault rifle in his trench coat, turned, and walked off through the northern entrance.

**00:00:59**

A computerized voice floated up from one of the computer screens; "Finalizing augmentation placement..."

Page's composure returned just as readily as it had been broken by Denton's impudence. To challenge the might of God...unwise. But predictable.

A long slab of iron began to unpack itself from the infusion apparatus. Three other identical slabs did the same thing on all sides of the device. From the one right within view, Page could see a plethora of blue tubes and the other implements that would inject millions of nanite cultures into his blood-stream. The infusion process, which had taken many hours in completing the new framework of Page's body, was about to finish with a series of simple injections.

**00:00:40**

In the past, superstitious, frightened men had prayed daily to God and begged for the eventual favor He would bestow to them in His kingdom. Those who did not pray were, supposedly, punished.

The slabs finished unpacking, held poised around Page's body. At the half-minute mark, they would begin the procedure. It had been tested and experimented with dozens of times by frightened scientists who feared the wrath of a man who'd grown just a bit ambitious in his lifetime. They'd been preparing for just one infusion. If things went right now, it would be the first of its kind, to automatically imbue a man with nano-augmentations with little to no effort needed.

Page turned quickly, and tapped something into his computer. A little under a thousand years ago, people feared they would be punished if they did not pray. Some people though, some people who _sinned_...

Page finished typing, and turned just in time to feel the first injection. His vision darkened again, and then blanked out. But that was fine. Everything was fine. He was ready to meet his destiny. As for JC...well...

People who sinned were burned.

* * *

JC had to do a bit of running to catch up with Vixen. The halls of Sector Four were incredibly bare, save for the occasional "mini" Universal Constructor. JC found those things odd. Why build them so small? They clearly served a purpose, but he wasn't sure he wanted to know what it was. 

Absently, he shuddered. Page's whole manner had dramatically shifted. He was dressed in nothing but tight-fitting black undergarments, his face as heavily tattooed with blue markings as Walton Simons had been. And the way he'd spoken, he was so sure of himself, yet so obnoxiously unaware of how ridiculous he was being, how unrealistic his goals were, how his expectations were laughable. A week ago, he'd had the world by the balls, and that hadn't been enough for him. The prospect of more power had clearly sent him over the edge. It didn't occur to him that Helios' plans, while a lot more benevolent, were more like Page's warped dreams of power than he'd have liked to admit.

He ran for a few more seconds before finding V standing outside of the Aquinas Router, working over a keypad with a multi-tool. A sharp honk from the keypad, along with the loud curse she uttered, told him that she wasn't doing too well.

When he walked over, she turned around and said, "Took you long enough." She smiled, though; clearly glad he hadn't stuck around with Page for too long.

He nodded, "He's long-gone, if he was ever there in the first place, which I doubt," he frowned at the keypad, which boldly announced **DENIED** in clear red letters, "I have a feeling he may still have one card up his sleeve, we should hurry-" His info-link began to chime. He held up a hand so Vixen knew, and stood silent as the message transmitted. It was Helios, the enigmatic amalgamation of two advanced AI's.

"This room has been sealed by Page," Helios said in his odd, mystifying way of speaking, "but there is a power-room with a security terminal down below; an elevator will take you there. The terminal will grant you access. The login is 'Page,' password, 'Uberalles.'"

The info-link shut off, leaving him very much bemused by Helios' sudden shift in behavior; he'd gone from deliberately mysterious to readily available for help. It made JC angry when he thought about their initial "conversations." He gave Vixen the gist of what they had to do.

She nodded, "Only pass codes and login's left; rather anti-climatic, don't you think?"

JC chuckled dryly as they started for the elevator, which was just around a corner, "I'm tired as hell, and I wouldn't mind it if I didn't have to kill anything else for tonight."

V stared at him seriously, "JC, you're going to be helping an AI program control the world in less than an hour."

They both stepped onto the elevator after having waited for it to come up, "If you had told me that a week ago, I would have called you nuts. I would've also called you nuts if you'd told me UNATCO was a terrorist organization and that a group called MJ-12 was secretly running the world."

The elevator made a small "beep" noise, and began to descend. "And yet here I am," JC continued, "I don't even know half of what I'm supposed to feel, think, _know_ when this...merge is complete. I won't be the same anymore." He laughed, "Y'know...I wonder if I'll make as good a leader as I have a killer."

She groaned, "That's no way to think, JC."

"I was bred to be a killing machine, not a leader of men. I don't lead; I follow. I don't inspire; I'm used."

"You're respected, too."

"Yes," He said. "I'm not gonna be anyone's lackey, not anymore. This is my choice. It's not something I want, but it's mine, and it's the best there is..."

V turned, "But?"

"But I could be wrong...I should know that better than anyone else in the world by now."

She smiled at him again, in spite of his worries and lamentations, "You'll do what you think is right, JC."

The elevator settled to a halt. The room that greeted them was, indeed, a power station. A large yellow electricity conductor dominated it. A security terminal lay attached to the right of the conductor. All as Helios had said. They started walking toward the security terminal. JC flipped open the terminal and correctly typed in the login and password. A camera screen showed the Aquinas Router, and an option above that screen to unseal the door. JC clicked it.

"That's the difference between you and Page," Vixen said, going on with what she'd said in the elevator, "In the end, all that matters to him is Page. And all that matters to you...is everybody else. People can try to steer you in other directions, but they can't."

As they walked back, JC smiled at V. She smiled back. Behind them, the electricity conductor exploded.

The room shook with the force of the blast and pieces of debris flew around them. Huge bolts of electricity lashed out of the broken conductor like raging water. JC stared in horror as two bolts struck Vixen simultaneously. Her body convulsed for a second, and then collapsed like a puppet with its strings broken, still jerking from all the electricity running through her.

Barely thinking --barely breathing--, JC activated his environmental resistance augmentation and picked her up. His jaw clenched in pain as a bolt hit him in the back, but he kept moving toward the elevator. His legs were trembling. His body was shaking. Bolts of electricity arched to and fro throughout the room, casting sporadic blue light inside in various locations. All the while, someone was gloating.

It was Bob Page.

"Still alive, eh? Not to worry, that security terminal should be offline now. The world shall now turn and prosper safely under my rule, now that my augmentations and ready." He laughed deliriously, "That's right. All done now. I'm headed for the Aquinas Hub, and neither you, your whore nor Helios himself can stop me! I can unlock the Router from a remote location further on in the base." He laughed again, "I hope you like Sector Four, JC Denton. It will be your new home for the rest of your sad, pathetic life."

The info-link shut off. JC grunted and clambered into the elevator. Stabbed the button. He looked down at her. She'd stopped shaking. Her eyes were mercifully closed, lip tightly set. She looked fine. Not hurt. Page didn't concern him now, nor did the fact that, against his expectations, Page had come out ahead finally, and was on his way to make good on his earlier promises.

Unfair. She was dead. She had to be. She was already weak from having been shot at the missile silo...it was too much. Too much electricity. All in a fucking flash, and she was so beautiful to him, so understanding. She hadn't held a grudge, nothing. Unfair. She knew what he had to do, and she'd accepted it. Knew it, she cared, but she let it go. Un-fucking-fair. The elevator reached the top now. He felt her pulse.

He clambered out of the elevator, she in his hands. He laid her against the wall, right next to the now-open Aquinas Router. He brought out a med kit and stabbed the syringe into her arm. His entire body was trembling, trembling as she had when she'd been shocked. All this time together and this was how it ended? It hardly seemed real to him. It couldn't end like this. It wouldn't. He'd felt it in her pulse. A spark. He'd been too quick to judge, but the shock had been nearly complete. Either it'd fried her, or it hadn't. Had to hope.

"Jesus Christ," JC said, in a voice altogether unlike himself. Jesus Christ.

A minute passed. Helios told him to hurry up. Everett told him to pursue Page. Tong offered his condolences. He told them all to fuck off. Time passed like a blur as he waited for activity. She had to be dead. Unfair...

Page was nearing the Hub. Things were running in fast-motion. He had to make a decision, NOW. He could leave her to die and rule the world with a goddamn computer, or wait for her and help her_ live_ while dooming himself to be trapped in Area 51. The only thing that mattered...was everybody else. His legs still trembled furiously, but he was able to run into the Router station and unlock the Net. Helios provided the login and password. After that, he ran out again, and didn't look back. He hated himself for doing it, but he didn't look back. _Nothing to be done. Can't brood now. Jesus Christ, _he thought. And he ran.

Ten seconds later Erica Dalton coughed, and her eyes creaked open.

* * *

May Page cursed as they went through another hallway labeled **"Sector Four, Hall B-5"** The alien in front of her said nothing, as usual. The gun she was holding was incredibly heavy in her hand. They kept walking. They'd been doing this for the better part of an hour ever since getting off the tram-car, but nothing had gotten done. She dimly wondered why on Earth she'd even listened to the goddamn monkey-alien in the first place. It was clearly looking to use her for its own ends, whatever the hell that was. All she wanted was her goddamn child back. She wanted her Michelle back, and she wanted to escape from this nightmare. But they kept on walking. They passed a door labeled **"Recreation"** for what seemed like the eleventh time. 

In fact...

"Hold up," May said. Amazingly enough, Grey complied, and looked at her expectantly. She blinked, not having expected her "order" to be complied with. She shrugged though, and pointed at the labeled door.

"What's that? Eh?"

Grey looked at the door for a second, then looked back to May, _"A door."_

She shook her head and waved her pistol hand like she would when chastising Michelle. "Right, a door. But not just any door." She pointed again, "It's the same damned door we've passed ELEVEN times now. You have been leading me around IN CIRCLES!"

Grey had nothing to say about that. Instead, he merely looked at the door labeled **"Recreation"** again.

May Page threw up her hands in annoyance. Her eyes bulged in almost-muted rage. Almost, "You know what? This is leading me NO WHERE. I'm leaving to find my daughter on my OWN."

With that, she turned around, and started off in the other direction.

* * *

_Victory at last_, Bob Page thought. His augmentations were complete, and he was well on his way toward the Aquinas Hub. Another ten minutes at the most. He knew his way around this facility by now to have learned all the short-cuts. 

Victory he had. Complete victory. TOTAL victory, yes. He'd gambled everything, lost a lot, but still came out on top. He was officially on his way to apotheosis. He was going to make history, and no one stood in his way. He wouldn't just make history. He'd fucking CHANGE history. Yes, he had a very specific world in mind. The weak would no longer exist to hamper the efforts of the strong. And when Page's mind existed everywhere, how could the weak hope to resist? They couldn't! They would suffer...and die! Strong women who knew their place (women unlike his wife) would name their strong children after him, the man who'd made everything possible.

With the strong in the saddle, bureaucracy would cease to exist. PAGE would be the bureaucracy, and the Aquinas Network take care of most of it. All he had to do was push humanity to places it had never reached before. In a decade, Page estimated, humanity would touch the stars, quite literally, for the first time under his guidance. His ambitions, when merged with Helios, would be limitless, his law penetrating all and affecting all.

And best of all, JC Denton would no longer exist to hamper his efforts. As soon as he merged with the AI, he would lock Sector Four and set the UC's inside to _full_ capacity for monster-making. He'd be karkian food within a day. Yeah, it was wastes to let someone so gifted go astray, but what the hell?

He was too giddy to let it get him down. He _was_ God after all. And every God has a kingdom, Page thought. _To hell with the Eye on the top of the Pyramid_, he thought. _What I will have will be far greater than Everett could possibly imagine!_

It was time to claim his kingdom and meet his DESTINY. He walked down another corridor, talking to himself cheerfully. He'd had plenty of practice in public speaking, but never in god-like commandments. Time to start practicing.

* * *

May Page hadn't walked more than ten feet before a strange man wearing nothing but black underwear briskly walked into the hall from a connecting corridor. He hadn't even seen her. Her eyes widened as she saw blue markings stretching down from his head to the very toes of his hairless body. He looked odd, and had all sorts of wiring attached to him. Jesus Christ, her husband was experimenting on PEOPLE as well. The man was muttering to himself, his tone often reaching recognizable speech. His voice was high and shrill. 

"Cull the weak, HAHA!"

_Poor wretch must be in so much pain,_ May thought. Behind her, she heard Grey let out a strange noise. She ignored him, and raised her pistol. This was the least she could do. To put the poor thing out of its misery.

She took careful aim with the pistol, arranging the sight so it rested on the poor monsters head. It was laughing hysterically to itself, and she felt a pang of guilt at what her demented husband and his hooligans had done to the poor man. She took another second to correct her aim, and fired.

A soft gurgle erupted from the man down the corridor and he collapsed bonelessly, a hole in his head. May sighed sadly and lowered the pistol, glad, at least, that she'd taken careful aim. Grey ran over beside her and stared at the corpse. Then he looked back up at her, his pupil-less eyes betraying no emotion. She shrugged, as if the look had been one of reproach, "I couldn't let him go on like that, the way he was."

The alien looked back over to the corpse, then her again. It seemed to be having difficulty speaking. Eventually, it managed to say, _"You're right. I know where your daughter is."_

May stared at him in disbelief, but was suddenly too happy to complain, "WHERE? Go, I'll follow you!"

The alien led her back in the direction from where she'd originally stalked off from. It wasn't long before they stopped in front of a room. **"Recreation."** Again, she was too happy to be mad at Grey. She burst into the room while Grey stood at the door. It was a relatively expansive, with a few pool tables and a row of Sci-fi themed pinball machines. At the end of the room were two vending machines, both advertising "Lemon-Lime!"

And resting against the second vending machine...,"HONEY!"

May ran over to her baby girl, her sweet girl with her sweet face and lovely red hair. She wasn't Bob's child, but everyone had said the resemblance was striking. But May wasn't thinking about Bob. She ran past the last pinball machine and seized her child. The girl woke up with a start, her eyes widening at having came to so abruptly. Her eyes settled on May's face, and the look of confusion turned into one of joy.

"Mommy!"

"Michelle!"

They embraced. May thought she would never relax her grip, but eventually she somehow did. She stroked Michelle's hair softly, lovingly, and said, "We've gotta go now, honey. Are you ok?"

"Ok," Michelle said, but she lacked conviction. By God, what had _she_ gone through? But none of that was important. "I'm hungry."

May laughed, "So am I, baby. We'll eat soon. I love you, Michelle, very, very much. Now come on, we're leaving."

Carrying her child, May walked back across the room and through the door. The brightly lit, sterile corridor was empty. Grey was no where to be seen. There was, however, a map on the floor. On it was a clearly illustrated path that eventually led to "Groom Lake, topside." Again, she didn't fucking care. It didn't matter to her what Grey had wanted her to do, or what his secret master had wanted him AND her to do. She'd gotten what she wanted. Her child was back, resting safely against her shoulder. She was safe, they were both safe. She never wanted to see Bob again, and was sure she wouldn't anyway.

May Page was content. Hefting Michelle carefully, she started down the corridor, the map in her other hand.

She didn't even bat an eye as she walked past the corpse.

Five minutes later JC Denton arrived at Bob Page's body and skidded to a halt.

* * *

Morgan Everett let out a highly uncharacteristic shout of joy as the info-link sent him the image of Bob Page's corpse. His old protégé, and greatest failure, lay dead before his eyes. Everett's eyes sparkled with something close to happiness as the image from the info-link remained fixed upon Page's cadaver. Then he quickly shook his head. No time to waste; he would celebrate later, after he had dealt with all of these nasty loose ends. 

He quickly snapped on the communication link and waited for it to transmit. After a green light shined on the computer screen he said, "Page is dead, JC. The threat is over. You should leave the facility at once so my soldiers on the surface can take custody of the Aquinas Hub. You can finally rest with the knowledge that it's over."

He ended the transmission. A red light blinked on the top-left side of the screen. Everett began to worry.

JC was set on merging with Helios. He had to see that a return to normalcy would be the best course of action! The world couldn't survive, lurching from one surprise to another. Maybe with Page dead JC wouldn't be so rash. Everett could understand it; JC had to make a choice that did not involve Page taking over, and merging with Helios seemed to be the quickest way! Perfectly rational. He could be forgiven for things like that. Hell, if things went _perfectly_ maybe Everett would even forgive Tracer Tong and Paul. He didn't count on that, though.

Still no return transmission from JC. The info-link signal was no longer on Page's body, but instead was staring forward down the sterile corridor. What was he thinking about? How to reply? Everett could only hope. Even with his old student dead, a bullet through the forehead, his paranoia still held supreme over all his other instincts. He had to start thinking about a contingency plan if JC really did merge with the AI.

First, though…He toggled a button on the right-hand side of his desk, _"Carmella?"_

"_Oui, Monsieur Everett?"_

"_Comment est Monsieur Jacobson?"_

"_Ferme, monsieur, le saignement s'est arrête."_

"_Bon."_

"_..Il dit que vous aviez raison, monsieur."_

Everett paused. Then he said, _"Bon."_

He cut the transmission. _At least Alex is not going to die,_ he thought. And what was more, the programmer was now firmly behind him, even after Everett had shot him. But what was that when compared to what was at stake? No, Alex was smart enough to accept what had happened.

It was time to see if JC was smart too.

* * *

JC Denton ran up the stairs two at a time. He reached the top in less that a minute and pushed the door open. It's hinges creaked in protest, and it shut again quickly as JC ran down the corridor it had opened into. He rounded a corner and went up another set of stairs, again, two at a time. After that he came out into the big storage area that was the entrance to Sector Three. 

Dead bodies littered the floor. MJ-12 troops, scientists, maintenance men, U.S. soldiers, mutants. He couldn't run ten feet without stumbling into another corpse. It didn't matter to him. He kept going towards the Aquinas Hub.

JC's mind, unusually enough, was blank. There were no more questions. No more obstacles, even. The soldiers were gone, the mutants were gone, the bots were gone. Mutants were gone. Anna Navarre, Gunther Hermann, Walton Simons. They were gone. Tracer Tong, his brother, Morgan Everett. They were gone to him as well. The woman he loved. She was gone too.

JC ran past what he had thought to be a broken-down spider-bot. As he ran past he heard if blurt out a static filled warning. JC turned smoothly and caught the spider-bot in mid-air. It had launched itself forward, it's drill-legs extended menacingly. It garbled more static in surprise and began to struggle. JC swiftly turned it on its side and, after activating his muscle augmentation, crushed it to pieces under his foot. He kept walking.

Bob Page was gone. There were no more obstacles. There was only one thing left to do. He had been backed into a corner, very slowly, for this past week. Every event had been orchestrated cleverly in order to help him each this place. There was nothing left for him to do but accept his own fate.

He was going to save the world, quite literally. He would single-handedly pull it out from the darkness and give it a chance to live on for a while longer. He would help Helios administer the world through democracy and reason. Eventually, if things went right, Helios would cease to be necessary anymore. The world would prosper…eventually.

He walked past a broken down sign and the remains of an MJ-12 soldier who had been crushed underneath it. He was still breathing, moaning pathetically. The sign had an arrow neatly stenciled in, pointing forward, **"To Aquinas Hub."** The soldier reached out, trying to get JC's attention. JC tossed him a med-kit. He kept walking.

In a way, this outcome was the least of the worst things he could think of. But that did not mean it wasn't a tragedy to him all the same. All his life he had been coolly manipulated by uncaring, sophisticated minds. Every move: His birth, Area 51. His training in Switzerland. UNATCO.

Until recently he'd been the puppet. But when he'd discovered this, the conspiracy, his role as the deus ex machina for MJ-12…the strings had begun to fall away in dangles around him. And now, after the struggle, after discovering himself and what he stood for, after finding love and becoming his own man in the midst of it all…the story had come full circle. He was used again by this AI, Helios. This was the tragedy. He had never truly progressed if one looked at it closely enough.

But there was nothing he could do about that. He couldn't live with himself if he just walked away from it all, stopped caring. What would V think? What about all the people, all the things that he had seen during his journey over the past week, the longest week of his life. He felt as if he'd aged a thousand years during it. He had grown in knowledge and in skill. He couldn't walk away.

He had to do this.

He walked through a door, the same he had crossed the threshold of with Vixen, only a few hours ago. He walked on past the tram-center. His footsteps made an odd sound as he stepped on the dried blood of the soldiers he had decimated before. He kicked aside a body and stepped onto the elevator. He looked up.

There was the Aquinas Hub. There was Helios himself, with his green, glowing veins and metal surfaces. There he was, hanging at the top of the cavernous Hub of which his entire being was housed. He hung there, waiting, with his infinite wisdom. Waiting for JC to come to him. JC could stop. He could _not_ press that button, the one that would bring the open roofed elevator up to the central hub. To the infusion chamber. He could walk away.

The only thing that mattered to him was everybody else. Suddenly, he was no longer alone. There they all were again. Paul, Jaime, Sam Carter, Gary Savage. They had been telling him during all the time he'd known them that he would have to think for himself, do the right thing. And there was Vixen. He loved her, he realized. He couldn't renounce that. Why should one have something so rare, so amazing…and just give it up? He wouldn't. He couldn't. He would remember her and what she'd said to him. It was the least he could do.

He turned in the elevator and pressed the button labeled "Up." The elevator churned and began its ascent.

* * *

Morgan Everett cursed softly as the info-link suddenly went blank. Then he was silent for a very long time. It hadn't worked. Power was slipping through his fingers as though it were sand. 

…Time for plan B.

He turned, very calmly, and toggled the communication again with Carmella, _"Entre, Carmella."_

"_Oui, Monsieur Everett?"_

"Carmella, be a dear and bring Nicolette up to my office. Immediately."

"Right away, Mr. Everett."

"Good…Oh, and Carmella?"

"Yes?"

"Contact Chad Dumier as well."

"Yes, Mr. Everett."

Morgan ended the transmission again. Almost immediately thereafter, another transmission came in. It was the leader of the Illuminati backed NSF forces above Area 51.

"Mister Everett, the MJ-12 troops are fleeing. We're preparing to move into the facility now."

"Don't," Everett said.

There was a pause over the radio, "Er, sorry?"

"Don't go inside. Pull back now. That's an order."

Another pause, longer this time. Finally the commander said, "Yes, sir." The transmission cut off. Everett sat back in his chair and stared at the ceiling, which was obscured in darkness. He stared at it for a very long time before settling back into his chair regularly.

Then he let out a long, sad sigh and began to think. He began to plan.

* * *

Tracer Tong said nothing as the transmission from the info-link went blank. Instead, he merely looked to Paul. JC's older brother had a thoughtful expression on his face, but otherwise said nothing too. Silence descended upon the room. 

Tong had tried to push JC in the direction he'd wanted. He had failed. Perhaps that meant something about all that he had done. Perhaps it was fate telling him that his direction had been wrong, flawed.

Perhaps it was free-will.

Tong looked over to Paul again. They stared at one another for a minute before Tracer said, "What do you think?"

"I think he's doing what he feels is right," Paul said. Then, after a careful silence, said, "But I don't know what will happen next."

"No," Tong said. Had he been wrong about trying to destroy the facility? Was JC in the right here? Perhaps. He said, "No, neither do I"

And there was nothing left to be said after that.

* * *

JC Denton stood in front of the Aquinas Hub. Before him was the glass case that was linked up to the Hub itself. It was his destination, he realized. 

He moved closer, and Helios began to speak.

"You have returned, yes. And now it is time to integrate our systems."

"Yes," JC said tonelessly.

There was a mili-second's pause. "You are sure of your decision, yes. But confused at the same time."

"Yes," JC repeated, "I just…" He sighed. "I just wanted it to be different."

"You cannot, in good conscience, leave this place. We must integrate our systems and bring stability back to the world."

"I know."

Helios pressed on, "I have explained my reasoning, JC Denton. I am only so much assistance in my current state of being. I can be more if joined with you. Together we can lead. Together, we can prosper."

"And if I do? " JC asked, his voice still toneless. There was nothing left except the knowledge of what was to come. This was the end, the grand finale. And it was also the beginning. The beginning of something strange, wonderful. Something dangerous, perhaps. It would have its twists, bumps. It would have flaws. He was ready to accept them, but he had to know something…"What becomes of me?"

Helios paused for a full second. Then, "You will be who you will be. We are our choices. We can choose to lead humanity away from this…darkness."

JC nodded, "We are our choices. And I will choose, along with you, this machine."

"We will choose, "Helios repeated.

JC sighed, "All right. Let's go this."

The glass case opened. A peculiar humming sound lay within, but he didn't care. At this point all he cared about was getting along with what he had to do. He stepped inside and stood in the center of it. The glass case closed soundlessly.

For a few seconds, there was nothing but the sound of his own breathing and the humming of Helios within the glass case. He was alone in there, with his own fears, lusts, doubts, misgivings. With the assurance of his being right.

The humming intensified until it reached the point of being all JC could hear, all he could think. All he could…see…

The door to his mind opened. His nanites were the key. Helios flooded into his consciousness like a wave. Information diluted JC's senses. His hearing intensified. He could hear ever single transmission on Earth, all of the going-on's of the Net. He was touched, embraced by the wealth of knowledge he was receiving. It felt warm to him, as the sun does on a mild day.

His sight went dark for a moment, but then came back to normal suddenly. But it was different to him. He could see the glass of the container he was in and suddenly knew every detail of its composition. The computing power of his mind was enormous. There was nothing he could not comprehend, and yet all of this was incomprehensible to him. The knowledge flowing into his mind was liberating, yet frightening.

He wondered what Helios felt, if anything at all. Was he learning of confusion? Of fear? Of love? Was he experiencing the same thing-

And then he stopped wondering, because, at that moment, he _knew_. Helios joined his mind and all of his complexity, his computer intelligence was now one with JC and his mind, and his doubts, and his human emotions. There was no distinction anymore. His personality was still intact, but with all of Helios' cool considerations and warnings. All of his ineffable knowledge, his power to control, was at JC's disposal. Soon he would no longer be confused. He would know.

The humming suddenly stopped. JC looked up in surprise. It was over already. The glass case opened up. The Aquinas Hub was silent. The intelligence, all of it, all of Helios was there, but it was confusing to him. It was all stacked neatly as if at a library. It was all ready for him to peruse, to see, to know and touch.

He was ready to do what needed doing. In his mind, JC reached out and saw the lights that shined brightly in the Hub. He touched them, and turned them off. Darkness descended upon the room. Then he turned the lights back on.

He reached out further with his invisible hand, with his fears and doubts, but also with his knowledge and considerations. He saw New York City. He couldn't see it clearly, and yet it was there to him. He could make out the lights there, the shape of the buildings and the circuits on which they were powered. He could do anything he wanted. He accessed the central UC in Area 51 and ordered it to start pumping out Grey Death vaccinations. Within moments, the chamber was filled with neatly stacked cases. Then he ordered them loaded, by bots nearby, into an elevator which would take those cases to the surface.

He was in total control.

All of the world was like that to him, ready to be called into being before his very eyes. Total control was at his hands, and yet, unlike Bob Page, he felt no need to control, manipulate and pull. We would watch for now. He would wait.

There were still things to be done, after-all. He could not see people. He saw the lights and the cities and the Net, but the did not see people. In order for this to work, he needed people to become part of the equation. Not just him, JC Denton. Everybody.

Tentatively, JC tested his voice. "We…are one."

His voice sounded normal. Nothing was wrong with it. In fact, he could now coordinate, before hand, every emotion he would like to convey before he said anything.

He had mastery over himself for the first time in his life. How he had doubted! He had come out on top in the struggle. Helios was part of him, and JC was part of Helios, but above all, he was JC Denton first and last.

And there was much work to be done. He stepped outside of the glass case, and started to walk.

* * *

Tracer Tong sighed, and said, "There is much work to be done. We should go talk to Savage and coordinate our next step. Then we'll see what will happen." Majestic Twelve was in shambles by now. They could rest easy. And then, after having rested, prepare for the coming storm. 

Paul nodded, "Yes, we'll see what happens."

Tracer turned off his computer, which was, as of now, showing no abnormalities. Paul helped him up, still weak somewhat from the Grey Death infection. Together they walked outside of the small office. Paul turned back only to turn off the light.

* * *

_There's a lot of work to be done_, Erica Dalton thought as she opened the steel door and was greeted by an intense ray of light. The sun shone down on the complex she had been in, whatever it was. She was frightened. All she could think about was her name because she had nothing else left in her mind. Her memory was blank. She did not know where she was, nor who she was, and what she was supposed to be like. 

All she had was her name. She held on to it, afraid that she would lose it if she looked away. She blinked as she walked out onto the desert floor, the sand crunching softly under her booted feet. There was a large expanse of emptiness ahead of her, interrupted occasionally by small, squat buildings. She was on a base of some sort, but she didn't know why, nor how she'd come to be there.

She whimpered quietly to herself as she willed her legs to move forward. Begrudgingly, they did in the direction of the buildings. Erica Dalton had a lot of work to do.

* * *

Everett looked up as Nicolette came in. Behind her, a ray of light stabbed into the other-wise blackened room. She was wearing modest clothing, and looked afraid.

"Come in, dear Nicolette," Everett said at the end of the room, behind his desk, "There is much work to be done."

Nicolette entered the room.

And so the cycle begins again.

* * *

HOW MANY AGES HENCE 

SHALL THIS OUR LOFTY SCENE BE ACTED OVER,

IN STATES UNBORN AND ACCENTS YET UNKNOWN! – William Shakespeare, _Julius Caesar. _

Authors Note: And so ends my large, clumsy, sometimes very infuriating, sometimes incredibly rewarding, often very convoluted epic, Deus Ex: The Conspiracy. It is the first full-length story I have ever written from start to finish, and in many ways has been an experiment for honing my writing ability. It's been a learning experience just as much as Deus Ex, the game, originally was for me. Anyway, I won't bother spewing out anymore philosophizing than what you've just read. I'll just move right on to the acknowledgements and good-byes.

Acknowledgements:

BornIn: For being ever critical of what I write and offering insight and suggestions. Also, for being annoyingly insistent that I get off my lazy ass and write!

My brother: For being supportive when I write and endlessly cynical when I don't. My favorite pastime is always hearing him say, "It's good," whenever I finish a chapter.

Deus Ex Board on GameFAQs: For being incredibly supportive and heaping praise upon me as if I was some kind of Christian saint. They're also good, occasionally, for insight. Good to have you back, DX Chick!

You, the readers and reviewers: I hone my technique by paying attention to your praise and criticism. Your words both inspire and infuriate me to no end, both for which I am dully grateful. I hope you'll stay with me.

FAQ God: For writing up the Deus Ex game script on GameFAQs. Couldn't have done this without your script.

Announcement: On that very last note, I feel that I should announce that I'm not done with the Deus Ex story here. I plan to continue this version of the DX universe in an intermission story set between Deus Ex and Invisible War that depicts the events of the Collapse. A lot of the main characters will be returning for this, so stay tuned!

I hope to see you then.

-Metroid13


End file.
